


What I Wouldn't Do

by AlabasterInk



Category: Naruto
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adult Fear, BAMF Konoha Twelve, Canon Relationships, Espionage, F/F, F/M, Fuuinjutsu, Gen, Hokage Uzumaki Naruto, Konoha Twelve as Family, M/M, Not Boruto: Naruto Next Generations Compliant, Politics, Post-Chapter 700 (Naruto), Remastered from the one on FF.net, The Konoha Twelve are badass adults running a military village, Whump, but they're not a focus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-04-07 02:41:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 60,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19075834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlabasterInk/pseuds/AlabasterInk
Summary: Being Hokage is all about making the hard calls. It's about choosing between personal desires and the needs of the village. When his son is attacked and spies are found conspiring in the shadows, Uzumaki Naruto is suddenly forced into a situation where one wrong move could spell war. Is it possible to keep his morals and still be a good leader, or does being Hokage require more from him than he has ever been prepared to give?





	1. I Wouldn't Lose Myself to Anger

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is actually a story I started way back in 2015 before we knew there was going to be a sequel series. I have since revised it, but the storyline has mainly remained the same so it doesn't really follow much of what happens after Ch. 700. There are a few things I've cherry-picked from the Boruto anime/manga, but I'm not as caught up on the recent happenings so don't expect it to follow that much. 
> 
> A few things to keep in mind:  
> \- Orochimaru disappeared after the war
> 
> \- Naruto became Hokage at 26 (Which I think is canon, but the Boruto timeline makes no sense. Apparently, the Academy Arc in the show was supposed to take place over 5 years, so we're going with that.)
> 
> \- This takes place a few months after Ch. 700, but before Mitsuki joins the village
> 
> \- I am aware that neither Kiba nor Shino are married or have children, but they do in this. I already had their families set up before we got more information on them, but then I got attached to Shino's family and the Kiba/Tamaki kid, so they stayed. They're not in it much though, so if it's not your thing don't worry about it. 
> 
> \- Romance and Romantic pairings are only present due to the nature of the fact that the Konoha Twelve are married. They have families. But frankly the most important relationships are the bonds of friendship between them. 
> 
> And, just in case:  
> * **Bold** : Bijuu speaking  
> * _Italics_ : Thoughts/Jinchuuriki speaking to their Bijuu/Telephone  
> * _**Bold-Italics**_ : Yami Naruto speaking in Naruto's head
> 
> Also, as it stands for the rest of this story, I own nothing except the plot and my OCs. 
> 
> With that said, I hope you all enjoy!

Someone was shouting. There was smoke in the air and it hurt to breathe. In the distance, a growing pile of bodies, burnt and charred beyond recognition, formed a grotesque landmark against the fires still smoldering amongst the trees. The smell, to those who noticed, was abominable.

Few noticed.

“Casualties?”

“Six injured. Three dead. Ten intruders killed. Seven prisoners and counting.”

Statistics. It was all statistics. Not lives. Not people. Statistics.

The world spun, a child’s top wobbling on its last leg. When would it stop? Would it stop? Would there come a time when it finally toppled over?

Was this how the world ended, with ash and smoke and the cold tang of copper under his nose?

Uzumaki Naruto didn’t know. He was on the edge of the top, just waiting for it to hit that critical moment and tumble over. How long had he been standing? A minute? An hour? His body ached with the phantom sensations of newly healed injuries. He’d been burning a second ago. Now it was all he could do to feel at all.

_Disassociation. It’s what happens when you realize you’re an idiot._

The shouting continued. Someone was issuing orders. Only belatedly did he realize it was him.

Electricity surged through the air. It pressed hot and heavy on the shoulders of those around him, but Naruto was numb. Was the world still spinning? Was it even possible? Iron tingled along his tongue – sweet and sharp and repugnant in its familiarity.

_Blood_ , his mind supplied. _You’re tasting blood._

Blood, that’s right. He knew blood. He knew it as intimately as a lover. His hands were sticky with it, flakes already drying under his fingernails. It would take forever to wash it all out. Perhaps the dirt would help.

…No. It just made it worse.

There was flurry of pink to his left. His eyes involuntarily followed the color. _Sakura_ , his subconscious registered, still in civilian garb and covered from head to toe in soot. A few shiny burns littered her exposed skin. She was on the ground, focused and hands swirling with green chakra, shouting orders to the medics around her. Red splatter littered her top, but she paid it no mind; her concentration was elsewhere, on a person lying prone atop the forest floor.

It was a child – a boy no older than seven. He didn’t move even when the medics wrapped and padded and pressurized the wounds littering his body. Not even a twitch to signify life. His blond hair was matted brown, singed down to the scalp in some places, and his limbs were splayed in an awkward contortion. A pile of torn and bloodied clothes lay discarded on the grass, ready to be trashed or analyzed at the collector’s discretion. Pale skin stood a stark contrast to the forest. Was it the ash, Naruto wondered, that made him so pallid, or simply the loss of blood?

It had to be the ash. No one could be so white and still be alive.

_Is he alive?_ The question popped about in his head. Was he one of Konoha’s three casualties? No. He looked closer. Sakura’s hands were still green. She was healing him. The boy was alive. _Good._

_Why is it good?_ For a second, Naruto couldn’t remember. Was it not just statistics? _‘Six injured. Three dead.’_ Statistics. Just statistics. Not people. Not–

He knew that child.

The world came to a stop. The top tumbled over. Time froze.

_Shock_ , he realized. _You’re in shock._

His chakra swirled, a torrential storm of power rushing through his system begging to be let out. It was reaching for something – a tiny whisper of life flickering just out of hand’s reach. He could see it, pulsating weakly in time with the boy’s heart. If he could just move his body Naruto knew he could rekindle that spark. He just needed to move. Just one foot in front of the other. Move.

He didn’t.

_Weak. You’re weak. He needs you. He needs you to move. Why won’t you move?_

He didn’t know. His feet wouldn’t listen. His body had turned to stone.

_Coward._

His vision tunneled, a tight loop that ran between him and the boy, before sharply snapping back into place like a stressed rubber band.

Motion returned first, his shinobi rushing past to and fro as they followed his orders. They ran in groups; teams fanning out in different directions to scout the surrounding forests, others rounding up prisoners for interrogation. A body squad assembled the dead for analysis and he sensed the ANBU spread amongst the trees to form a protective barrier.

Sound was next. The roaring in his ears faded into individual words and cries. Sakura yelled out orders to the medics and Shikamaru stood at his back giving directives to the scout teams. In Naruto’s mind, Kurama growled and cursed. His own throat burned raw. He must have been shouting, too.

Scent came last. Copper was still predominant, but now there was also smoke and the faint aroma of morning grass. Funny, how the smell could permeate so completely he tasted it on his tongue. Burning flesh had such an unpleasant flavor, especially for so early an hour. It was barely even eight.

Sun filtered through the trees, breaking the morning fog, and it would have been a perfectly lovely setting if not for the mess. Gouged dirt, destroyed trees, bloody grass and ash ruined the otherwise picturesque setting. And the bodies. One couldn’t forget the bodies.

“Hokage-sama,” someone said in his ear. He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. “Hokage-sama?” There was a sigh. “Naruto.”

Naruto started, his eyes flickering this way and that until they landed on Shikamaru. The other man was looking at him with a mixture of resignation and concern; for a moment, Naruto didn’t understand.

“Shikamaru,” the blond acknowledged, though a part of him failed to register the name.

His friend was covered in soot and debris, with a new scattering of burns along his body and a jacket destined for the trash. The Nara narrowed his eyes, and Naruto allowed the scrutiny, finding he didn’t have it in himself to care. Shikamaru must have found what he was searching for because after a few seconds he indicated with his head to the people behind them. “Kiba’s back. Says they think they found the rest.”

“Think?”

Shikamaru shot him a pointed glare and Naruto forced back the fire in his throat. He inclined his head – rigidly, like it was painful – and let his advisor continue. “Shino’s team is still out, but Kiba crossed their path on the way in – they haven’t found anything. Ino wants to know if she can take the prisoners back for interrogation?”

Naruto looked down, contemplative. On the one hand, Ino was the head of Torture and Interrogation, and so had a duty to her department first. On the other, she was also one of the best medics he had. Part of him wanted to keep her here in case one of Sakura’s subordinates tapped out, but the larger part, one that sounded suspiciously like Kakashi-sensei, told him he didn’t have that kind of time. He warred with himself for a few seconds, blue-eyes straying to the prone body a few meters away. No, he couldn’t take the chance. Suicide was still too possible at this stage. If he wanted information he would have to get it before the prisoners got it into their heads to become martyrs. He would just have to trust Sakura’s team had everything well in hand.

With a jolt of his chin, Naruto motioned for his fellow blonde. She straightened up, brushing cinders from her hair, and awaited orders.

“Yamanaka-taicho,” Naruto began. “You’re free to leave. Use any method you think necessary.” 

“Yes, sir."

Naruto waved and she was off, her team regrouping behind her; each one held a prisoner for interrogation. Naruto beckoned to Kiba. “Has Sai radioed in?”

Kiba shook his head. A cloud of ash billowed above him. “Not yet, but he’s farther out. Shino and his team only had one more area to search. No new prisoners or activity.”

The Hokage nodded. It felt like all he could do was nod. These people were doing this: good, got it, next. This team was here: okay, thanks. Nod, nod, nod. His already healed body stung and his feet still wouldn’t let him move. It was probably for the best. If he moved he might destroy something.

“Is there anyone else missing from the Academy?” He asked, directing his question to Shikamaru.

“No,” the Nara said. “Boruto was the only one. The Academy’s been placed on lockdown.”

“Good,” he mumbled. A thought occurred to him then and he wondered at how long it had taken to strike. “Hinata?” His eyes widened in worry, and without thought instantly extended his senses out for her. “Where are Hinata and Himawari?”

Shikamaru touched his arm in an attempt to reassure him, making contact the exact instant Naruto felt his family’s familiar chakra. Fear and anxiety pulsed around them, but it lacked danger. They were safe. “They’re still at the tower,” Shikamaru confirmed. “Hinata’s taken control of administration.”

The Hokage’s lips twitched, but he didn’t have the energy to smile. “Figures she would.”

“The ANBU are watching them, and Konohamaru. They’re alright.”

“Do they know?” Because Naruto didn’t know what he would do if Hinata found out some bastardized version of events from a secondary source rather than him, and he didn’t want Himawari to know at all.

“No. Hinata knows the basics and I’m sure you can guess it’s all Konohamaru can do to keep her there. Hima is oblivious, but I wouldn’t put it past her to be suspicious. You’ll have to tell her something.”

“I know,” and he did know, he just wasn’t sure how he would manage it. She’d be devastated. How the hell could he tell her brother was–no. His head jerked involuntarily, eyes drawn towards his old pink-haired teammate despite trying so hard to avoid her. He didn’t want to see the panic on her face or the alarming amount of blood splatter soaking her clothes.

“Hokage-sama…Naruto,” Shikamaru sighed, eyeing Naruto with concern. “Maybe you should go home. I can handle things here.”

“No,” Naruto said almost too quickly. He immediately recognized how desperate it sounded and took a deep breath to calm himself. “No. I can’t–I can’t leave him here alone, Shikamaru. He needs me here,” but there was a desperate strangling to those words that both men consciously ignored.

Any other shinobi and Shikamaru would have told him that watching was a waste of time. Naruto wasn’t a healer and Boruto was too out of it to notice anything, much less his father’s presence. Time spent agonizing over his son’s condition was time that could be spent being productive. But Shikamaru kept silent. Were it Shikadai lying there on the ground he wouldn’t have been able to leave either.

“Ready?” Sakura shouted from afar, her blood-slicked fingers supporting Boruto’s neck. “One, two, three, lift!”

The blond child was quickly transferred from the grass to a waiting stretcher. As soon as he was secured, Sakura immediately motioned for the two runners to leave, her subordinates going along in a bid to keep Boruto stable. Naruto and Shikamaru would have followed had Sakura not chosen to stay behind and approach them directly. She bowed her head.

“Hokage-sama,” she said, voice soft and searching.

“Uchiha-sensei,” Naruto returned, not really looking at her. His focus was glued to the patch of red mud where his son used to be.

Sakura and Shikamaru exchanged oblique looks, and the woman moved to position herself strategically in Naruto’s line of sight. She grasped ahold of his arm. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“I know,” he said reflexively, glancing over her head. She was just a little too short to cover the sight behind her.

But Sakura wasn’t having it. “Hey,” she prodded, reaching up to grasp his chin and forcing him to look at her. “He’ll be okay. He’s too much like his parents not to be.”

“Yeah,” he whispered roughly. From this distance he could see all the scratches slowly healing along her cheeks, and the new layers of skin forming over her burns. She really was the best medic in the world. “I know you’ll do your best.”

She managed a weak smile. “I’ll do better. I promise, and you taught me not to break promises.”

Naruto chuffed, but it didn’t bring out the grin Sakura had been aiming for. “Thanks, Sakura-chan.”

“No problem, knucklehead.” She brought her hand up to gently cup his cheek and squeezed. Then it was back to business. “I’ll keep you updated and let you know when he’s out. Tsunade-sama already radioed in. Everything’s ready for him.”

When Naruto didn’t respond, Shikamaru did it for him. “Thank you, Sakura.”

Sakura bobbed her head and, with one last concerned glance at her old teammate, disappeared into the foliage. Naruto gave no visible reaction to her departure. Without Sakura, there was nothing to obscure the bloody patch of grass left behind.

**We’ll kill them** , Kurama growled in the back of his head, somehow sounding both too far away and much too close.

_Yes_ , Naruto replied with equal conviction. _We will_. The urge to murder every single person down in interrogation was exceedingly tempting. Already, he could feel Kurama’s rage mingling with his own, and if anyone noticed the way his pupils thinned they said nothing about it.

A rustling sound echoed behind them and Naruto tensed, his tentative hold on the Kyuubi almost slipping. He was just able to reign himself in when Shino and his team leapt from the trees, presenting themselves at attention.

“Hokage-sama,” Shino began. “Scout Team Be-3 reporting. There are no new assailants within ninety kilometers west of the village. Evidence suggests they did not arrive from Kusa or Ame because there is no disturbed terrain or chakra residue. I have taken the liberty of distributing my colony along key routes in the event we were mistaken.”

“Good,” Naruto stated. “Your team is dismissed. I expect a report by noon.”

“Hokage-sama,” Shino said as his team bowed and began to scatter. He moved to follow them when Naruto called him back.

“Shino.” The Aburame tilted his head, taking in his leader’s clenched jaw and twitching fingers, and waited patiently for Naruto to say what he needed. It took a moment, but the blond eventually pried his mouth open and said, “Could you get Himawari from the tower? I don’t want her to hear anything she shouldn’t.”

Shino jerked his head to the side, surprised. “Of course, Hokage-sama.”

“And Shino? Tell Hinata to meet me at the hospital.”

“Sir.” The Aburame shifted, ready to jump, and paused. He hesitated for just a second. “Should I prepare Himawari for an extended visit?”

Naruto was silent and then, “Sh–she shouldn’t be too suspicious of an impromptu sleepover.”

Shino nodded. It was to be expected. Naruto and Hinata needed to be with Boruto. The first 24 hours were always the most critical and Shino would gladly protect Himawari if it would give his friends some peace of mind.

And, if there happened to be any more assailants waiting to harm the girl, Shino would be more than happy to dissuade them of the idea.

“Hokage-sama,” and he was off, bounding through the trees in a blur.

“Yo, Naruto-sama,” Kiba called. He was standing a bit a ways away, his hand on a surprisingly feral Akamaru. His other hand indicated to the recently arrived Sai. “Yamanaka found something.”

Sai bowed his head, leaning in so that whatever he said wouldn’t be overheard by the surrounding workers, and dissolved his ink creations. His face was a perfect mask of disinterest, marred only by the cinders still floating in the air. It was an old mask and to see it after so long set a stone inside Naruto's stomach. “Hokage-sama, we found tracks coming north from the border of Oto no Kuni.”

Naruto started and Shikamaru’s eyes widened. “Oto? But they were disbanded. Are you certain?” The Nara asked.

“Yes,” Sai said. “We didn’t go past the border, but the trail indicates they came from that direction.”

“Shall I send out a reconnaissance team, Hokage-sama?” Asked a cat-masked kunoichi as she flickered behind him. The green outline around her mask ranked her as the ANBU commander.

Naruto thought for a minute. The ramifications of sending out a team to go past the border without an official invitation were numerous should the team be caught, but at the same time he needed to be sure – needed evidence – for when he informed the other villages. Naruto knew he would have to. The attempted kidnapping and assault of his son would be seen by the world as a personal attack on the Hokage and Konoha at large. It was a political nightmare, and if Oto no Kuni or Otogakure were planning something the other villages would have to be alerted.

His gut churned. If it was Oto…well, that would mean more than just an attempt on his son. It would mean the Union had lost track of an amassing group of shinobi. It would mean this group had been working for years right under their noses. It would mean…

“Send out Team Nu,” he told the ANBU commander. “Have them wait ten miles from the border.”

“Hokage-sama?” Sai questioned, something like surprise flashing across his face before it was gone.

Naruto didn’t offer an explanation. An idea was forming in his head and he needed to act quickly. Before his silent observers his hands flickered through the seals to summon a small toad. He then removed a notebook from his pocket and wrote a quick message, handing it to the toad without even reading it through. A whispered instruction later and the summon _poof_ -ed away.

He skillfully ignored the unspoken questions of his compatriots.

“Tell Nu to wait for orders,” Naruto said to Neko, as if nothing had happened. “If they hear nothing within five days, they’re to return immediately."

The kunoichi didn’t question him. She saluted and uttered a clipped, “Sir,” before rushing off into the trees and back towards ANBU headquarters.

“Team Nu?” Kiba asked from the side, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You think they’re ready for something like this?”

Naruto’s lips quirked upwards for barely a second. “You trained them.”

“And they’re damn good, but do you really want them to infiltrate Oto?”

“Like you said Kiba, they’re damn good.”

“ _Tch_ ,” Kiba bared his teeth, half embarrassed, half pleased. “As you say, Hokage-sama. I’d better go have them run some drills then.”

“Don’t tire them out. They need to be on their toes.”

Kiba waved the words away. “Yeah, yeah, they’ll be ready.”

“One hour, Kiba.”

“Make it hard for me, why don’tcha.” Kiba smirked, cheering internally as he wheedled a smile out his friend. It was infinitely more comforting than the near murderous state his friend had been in before.

“You’ll have less time if you don’t leave now,” Shikamaru noted.

“Yeah, I know when I’m not wanted,” Kiba said. His grin slipped, turning serious as he glanced back at Naruto. “Keep me updated, ‘kay?”

Naruto’s face twitched. “Yeah."

“Good,” he said. “One hour.”

And he was off, taking the rest of his team with him and leaving Sai, Shikamaru and Naruto standing alone in the clearing. Well, not completely alone. Scene processors were still combing the area, but they were of little consequence when Naruto had so many other things to think about.

“Sai, I want you to take charge out here. Have the remaining teams report back to you. I need a detailed analysis of every root, tree, and hole you can find. They got in somehow and I want to know how.”

“Of course, Hokage-sama,” the Jounin Commander said. His brush materialized in his hand and, with a quick bow, he went to join the surveyors in their analyses.

Once Sai was out of range, Naruto patted Shikamaru’s shoulder and shouted out to the remaining shinobi, “Yamanaka Sai is in charge. Bring all weapons and equipment you find to Utatane Tenten. I want a detailed report as soon as you’re finished.”

“Sir!”

Naruto tightened his grip on his friend and signaled to leave, leaping through the trees and following after the spark he could still feel dwindling inside his son. His ANBU guard – those that hadn’t followed after Boruto – trailed somewhat behind, and he felt himself becoming increasingly annoyed by that. They shouldn’t be behind him. They should be surrounding him. If he was outpacing them, then they had no business as guards. Had Boruto’s team been so slow? If they were, it was no wonder he was taken. They would have to be replaced in the near future. This level of incompetency–

Shikamaru flickered into his peripheral, a sudden tightness around his arm alerting him to the contact.

“You’re leaking killing intent.”

_What?_

Naruto crawled his way back to reality. For the first time, he noticed the ache in his teeth from how tightly he’d clenched his jaw, and the pain in his palms as newly keened claws dug into the skin. His eyesight was sharper and he realized somewhat belatedly that he had incidentally begun channeling Kurama’s chakra.

He took a deep breath, releasing the energy, and felt his guards move in closer.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Shikamaru nodded, letting go of his arm, and Naruto was grateful when he remained quiet. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. 

Thoughts tumbled around in his head, too turbulent for him to get a firm grasp on. Plans for how to proceed jumbled with rage, which only made it harder for him to think. Naruto had never been very good at ignoring his emotions in the field and compartmentalization had been infinitely easier before he had a family.

The village grew closer, and his eyes picked out the excess activity with a certain measure of satisfaction. ANBU units stood along the perimeter, a visible presence today, while jounin and chuunin darted throughout the streets in groups in an obvious show of force. The civilians, he noted, were staying out of the way, going about their business with only the occasional nervous titter. No doubt many of them had at least heard the explosion, but in a shinobi village that could mean anything from training to invasion. So long as they weren’t being herded to the shelters they were confident in their own safety.

_Good_ , Naruto thought. The last thing he needed was a mass panic.

In the distance, the bright green roof of the hospital glistened under the sunlight. His senses bypassed the multitude of chakra signatures that made up the patients and staff, and highlighted upon the one weak flame reaching out from the bowels of the building like a beacon. He found himself picking up the pace, his ANBU guards falling further behind, and while Shikamaru grunted he made no complaint at the excess speed.

Naruto landed on the stone pathway a minute later with Shikamaru not a second behind. Four ANBU were visible on the roof, but Naruto could sense at least ten more hidden along the property. His own guard joined them as soon as they arrived, positioning themselves accordingly. Naruto did not acknowledge them.

With great effort, he made sure his expression was as controlled as possible so as not to alarm any civilians that may be inside before pushing through the hospital entrance. Truthfully, Naruto hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it certainly hadn’t been this. Instead of the expected shouting, the lobby was filled with a tense sort of calm. He’d been ready to see blood tracking the floor, but the linoleum was as blindingly white as always. Normal patients sat waiting in their chairs, nurses stood at their stations, and there was only the occasional doctor. A few of them looked up when he entered, eyes going wide, but he ignored them, if somewhat reluctantly. _This is gonna to send the rumor mill flying_ , but he was here for only one reason and it wasn’t to cater to their curiosity. There would be time for stories later.

“Hokage-sama?”

Naruto turned towards the meek voice and was met with a giant boulder of a man that almost eclipsed him in height. He wore the standard nurses uniform and had a head of dusty blond hair that sat shabbily on his head. Cautious brown orbs peered at him in a repetitive cycle of eye contact and floor staring. The man clutched his clipboard tightly as he shuffled uncertainly on his feet. To Naruto, it looked like the man was ready to bolt.

His nametag read: _Yajirushi Mamoru_

“Hokage-sama?” The man asked again, barely above a whisper. “Uchiha-sensei has instructed me to bring you to the Ward."

Somewhat thrown off by the dichotomy in the mountainous man’s countenance, Naruto could only nod. “Has there been any word?” He asked as he and Shikamaru followed the nurse out of the entranceway. From here, Boruto’s chakra felt even frailer, and he wasn’t sure if that was because of his injuries or the seals Naruto had personally crafted to hide the Ward from other sensors.

He prayed it was the latter.

To his dismay, the nurse shook his head. “No, Hokage-sama, not yet.” Yajirushi appeared genuinely remorseful.

The trio continued on in silence. They trailed through hallways and down corridors, past the children’s ward and the emergency department. Naruto knew the path by rote. Kakashi had taken him here before he was officially inaugurated to have his and his family’s chakra introduced to the seals. It was a special area, designed specifically to confuse and befuddle anyone not familiar with it. Only the Hokage, his family, and carefully selected personnel were permitted entrance. Everyone else had to be escorted.

They reached the first checkpoint within a few minutes. The regular hallway opened up into a small square room with only a single set of doors to make it interesting. Two ANBU stood on alert. They checked the seals on Naruto’s wrist and, once satisfied he wasn’t an imposer, allowed the trio through the doors and into another long hallway. It was surreal. The white hall seemed to go on forever – just one continuous corridor whose only defining quality was its sheer length. Had Naruto not known, he never would have suspected it was a genjutsu.

What seemed to be a regular corridor was really a maze of stairways and halls that spiraled down into the underbelly of Konoha. The group walked, down and down, until Naruto was very sure even Danzo’s tunnels stood above them. They went straight, left, right, and even appeared to go in circles. It was a marvel of engineering and genjutsu, and Naruto easily plucked out traces of Yūhi Kurenai’s chakra in the air.   

The three men eventually reached their destination: a large, unlabeled waiting room with six doors positioned around them. Three of those doors, Naruto knew, lead to recovery rooms. To his left was the entrance to the morgue. The last two, positioned ahead, lead to emergency rooms. The sign above one shone a bright red, indicating it was in use. Naruto closed his eyes and swallowed; Boruto’s chakra signature was still weak.

“Hokage-sama?” Yajirushi prodded, breaking the silence. “With your permission, I will return and escort your wife.”

Nodding jerkily, Naruto said, “Yes, of course. Thank you, Yajirushi-san.”

The nurse looked like we wanted to say something more, perhaps an offering of condolences or sympathy, but thought better of it. He bowed his head. “Hokage-sama. Nara-sama.”

In an instant, they were alone.

Shikamaru wasted no time. He immediately pinned Naruto with his eyes. “Alright, what are you planning?”

“Sasuke."

Shikamaru blinked. “Okay, and…?”

“Sasuke’s last letter came near the border of Yugakure. He knows Oto better than anyone here. If anyone can get in undetected, it’ll be him. Depending on what he finds, the ANBU will be his backup.”

The Nara considered this. It was a reasonable plan for something so spur of the moment. He inched closer, eyes narrow. “That’s not everything. What aren’t you telling me?”

Naruto bit his lip, waffling on the best way to tell his friend his suspicions. Being blunt was always his go-to, but would that be the best way to ease him in? _Bah_ , Shikamaru was a genius, and it didn’t take one of those to come to the conclusion he had. “Sasuke’s the only person who knows where all of Orochimaru’s bases are. He knows how Orochimaru thinks. That could be invaluable.”

Shikamaru didn’t even have the courtesy to pretend at surprise. “Naruto, there are tons of settlements in that direction. You can’t jump–”

“What am I supposed to do, then?” He cut off. Icy shards bore down upon him and Shikamaru clenched his teeth. “Orochimaru disappeared after the war. We could never find him, and now suddenly, out of the blue, my son gets attacked by shinobi coming out of Oto? What would you call that – a _coincidence_?”

No, he would not call that a coincidence. Orochimaru had been Shikamaru’s first thought too. The problem was that Orochimaru was a worst-case scenario and they could no longer afford to play fast and loose with their accusations like they had when they were children. The far more reasonable explanation was that some small time group had gotten it into their heads to kidnap the Hokage’s son for a quick ryo.

_But those were not amateur shinobi,_ he knew, _and somehow they managed to get into the village and past Boruto’s guard. Ordinary mercenary groups wouldn’t have that capability. Someone else has to be behind this, and who more likely than Orochimaru?_

But why Boruto? If it was Sarada, Shikamaru would have had an easier time agreeing with Naruto’s train of thought. Orochimaru had always coveted the Sharingan. What would trigger a desire for Boruto instead? Was it a mistake?

No, impossible. The differences in the two’s appearances could never be mistaken, even without taking into account their genders. Boruto was the target.

But _why_?

Of course, it was possible things had changed in the last decade or so, but something just didn’t sit right with the Nara. There were too many questions that still needed answering, even if Orochimaru played a part. And those didn’t even take into account what would happen if it wasn’t Orochimaru. What if it was some other country using Oto no Kuni as a diversion? What if this was a completely unknown adversary? Of the two options, Shikamaru wasn’t sure which was worse.

He sighed, deep and heavy. “We can’t assume anything. Just wait until Ino’s done, okay? You know her; she’ll get them talking, and then we can work from there.”

“They could regroup by then,” Naruto said, face like stone. “Try again.”

“They try again and we’ll show whoever is behind this exactly why you’re considered the most powerful shinobi in the world. They’re not going to get away with this, Naruto. I promise. But we have to be careful.”

“I am _sick_ of being careful.” The Hokage position was all about being careful. _Be careful, don’t insult the daimyō. Be careful, don’t mess up the trade agreement. Be careful, don’t start another war._ “I just–I want–” Naruto sank down into a chair. The anger drained from him, dissolving into nauseating guilt. His nose clogged with the onset of tears, and he inhaled deeply in an effort to stem the onslaught.

“You want to punch something,” Shikamaru continued for him without an ounce of condemnation. He placed a gentle hand on Naruto’s shoulder. “You want something you can fight – something that can fix this. A face, a name. I get it. But Naruto…”

“I know,” Naruto rasped. “I have to be careful.”

“Yeah,” the Nara sighed, resigned. “You’re not just some random shinobi. You’re the Hokage. If we go storming Otogakure and they’re not the culprits, it could spell war. _War_ , Naruto. Angry as you are, I know you don’t want that.”

“What am I supposed to do, Shika?” Naruto’s chin trembled and it was all Shikamaru could do to ignore the lump in his throat. “How am I supposed to fix this?”

“I don’t think you can,” and fuck if that didn’t hurt to admit. “But we’ll figure it out, yeah? You’ve saved the world twice. Compared to that, this’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Heh,” Naruto huffed, a bittersweet laugh that hardly passed for one at all. His eyes shimmered. “Shikamaru?”

“Hm?”

“Is this my fault? Did they hurt him because of me?”

“What? N–” but he couldn’t say ‘no,’ could he? Because it was entirely plausible Boruto was attacked for just that reason. Whether it was because his father was the Hokage, or because he was Uzumaki Naruto – both were possibilities. After all, if you wanted to provoke a reaction, what better way than to go straight for the heart?

Shikamaru sighed and lowered himself into the adjacent chair. He squeezed Naruto’s shoulder. “It’s not… _impossible_.”

The Hokage’s head bobbled, but his expression remained distant. He slumped over, threading filthy fingers through his hair and Shikamaru allowed him this time to think. He waited. It took a minute – two – but Naruto pulled himself back up and Shikamaru felt comfortable enough to move his hand away.

“We need a plan,” Naruto began. His hand waved about nervously as if he were trying to grab hold of the air. “Something we can tell the village, other villages, people. I don’t want this getting out.”

_It’s already out_ , Shikamaru wanted to say. The explosion hadn’t exactly been subtle. But Naruto needed the distraction – reassurance, even – and he wasn’t about to take that away from him. “What were you thinking?”

“A training accident – spar gone too far. We can push something like that, right? It’s believable.”

Sure it was believable, if an Academy student wasn’t involved. “And Boruto? Naruto we don’t know–”

“What?” His timbre had gone frigid, body stiff as a corpse. “We don’t know _what_ , Shikamaru?”

And damn did that tone send shivers down his spine, but Shikamaru wasn’t Naruto’s advisor because he told him what he wanted to hear. “We don’t know how he’s going to come out of that room. _No_ , no, listen to me.” He pointed an ash-encrusted finger towards the surgery. “He was in an _explosion_. He wasn’t _breathing_. You know this, I know this, the ANBU know this. What are you going to do, Naruto? Have a clone run around pretending to be him until he’s recovered? That’s not going to work. Not only will people get suspicious when he doesn’t remember anything he did, but it’ll be a complete drain on you.”

“One clone is not going to drain me,” Naruto muttered to himself, but Shikamaru didn’t give him the chance to argue.

“One clone? No, but one clone plus the others you’re sure to be using to fix this, and the lack of sleep you’re no doubt going to be suffering? Yes. And do you even realize how many people you had out searching? How many people we had to swear to silence? Chuunin, jounin, ANBU. Hell, you even pulled Shino from his class. ANBU won’t speak, jounin probably won’t either, but one drunk chuunin? It’ll be out. My gods, do you even remember issuing the emergency protocols?”

As a matter of fact, Naruto did not remember that. It must have been before… _before_. He didn’t remember much of _before_ right now.

“The village is on lockdown,” Shikamaru stressed. “No calls coming in. No calls going out. E-mail is shut down. The gates have locked. If the explosion didn’t clue people in, that certainly will.”

“We can’t tell them the truth,” the blond mumbled after a moment. In his head, condemnation rang. _Liar, liar, liar._ “We can’t let them know how easily we’ve been compromised. People will panic.”

“They’re already panicking.” It was a quiet panic, but it was there. “Look, if Boruto hadn’t been hurt, we might have been able to get away with it, pass it off as a false alarm, but people are smart. They’re going to put two and two together.”

Naruto shook his head, a little desperate. “He got in between a spar, then. Two…two jounin. They didn’t see him. It was an accident.”

“So, Boruto, a seven-year-old, managed to get between two fighting jounin – jounin who, I might add, somehow set off an explosion so large the village felt it – and they didn’t once sense his presence? That’s not going to fly. Especially when people realize that it’s Thursday and Boruto would have been at school and not so far out into the forests that he would have had to leave at four this morning in order to get there. Face it Naruto, this isn’t something we can just sweep under the rug.”

Naruto shook his head, knee bouncing up and down as he breathed into his hands. “I can’t,” he rasped. _Liar, liar, liar._ “If this gets out…Shikamaru, this is going to paint a target on his back.”

Shikamaru’s brow eased and he let himself lax forward, moving closer to his friend as if that would offer some comfort. Part of him whispered that this was the most troublesome thing he’d ever had to deal with, but he squashed the thought quickly. Annoyances were troublesome, and this was so far from an annoyance it wasn’t even in the same country. “He’s your son, Naruto; he’s had a target on his back since the day he was born. You know this. Any other kid and we might have had a chance, but Boruto isn’t just another kid. He’s the _Hokage’s_ son. And not even that, but he’s _your_ son. People are going to talk. Eventually, his classmates are going to notice he’s not there. Rumors will start, if they haven’t already. We can’t hide this.”

“So what?” Naruto pressed. “We tell them the truth?"  _Yes. No. Liar, liar, liar._ "That–that someone – no, not someone, a _group_ – a _group_ of someones, managed to infiltrate the village, pluck my son up from off the streets in broad daylight, run him into the forest, and we didn’t even notice until we were told by his teacher that he wasn’t there? How is that going to look? How is that going to make people feel?”

“Terrified. They’re going feel terrified, but they’re going to feel even worse if we don’t head this off early. If we tell them now that the situation is under control, they’ll be far more likely to put it out of their minds than if we lie and they find out later.”

“I can’t…” It was barely more than a whisper, a low-rung keen that twisted Shikamaru’s heart. He thought briefly of his own son and tried not to vomit. Gods, what was he going to tell him?

“Naruto,” his put his hand back on his friend’s arm. “We don’t have a choice. If you’re right, and they come back, we have to be ready. Konoha has to be ready.”

A long silence passed. Shikamaru felt the pulse against his neck throb in time with his heart and he pulled his hand away. To think, all he’d thought he would have to do today was rearrange the budget. Another moment dragged by before Naruto let his head fall. A more resigned agreement Shikamaru had never seen.

The Hokage took in a shaky breath. “The attempt…we can tell them there was an attempt. The people were caught and Boruto’s safe. We have everything under control, okay? Nothing about Orochimaru or–or Oto or…” _or how we didn’t know_.

But Shikamaru wasn’t planning on letting anyone know anything about that. “I’ll release a statement.” He twiddled his fingers a bit, unconsciously connecting their tips like he had when he was younger. “And…how should I address his condition?”

Naruto’s fists clenched. “Tell them…tell them he’s fine. He’s in the hospital, but he’s going to be fine,” even though it was all too apparent how much that was both wishful thinking and a desperate attempt at convincing himself. _Liar, liar, but who are you lying to?_

Shikamaru pursed his lips. “He might not be.” _He might not even come out of that room._

“And do we tell the village that? Make it look like these people succeeded? If I can’t protect my own child, how can they think I’d be able to protect them?”

And hell if Naruto didn’t have a point there. Successfully thwarting a kidnapping was praiseworthy; a resulting dead child was not.

_He’s not dead_ , Shikamaru chided himself, all while ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that whispered, _yet._ Fuck, there had been so much blood.

“Understood, Hokage-sama. I’ll make sure people know he’s expected to make a full recovery,” _even if it turns out to be a lie._ Gods-fucking-dammit, how was he supposed to look Shikadai in the eye?

He glanced at Naruto. Never mind that, how was anyone going to be able to look at Himawari? Shikamaru took a deep breath, “Naruto–” The echoing staccato of shoes outside the door halted him cold. The Hokage immediately stood and Shikamaru followed, brushing a hand down his top in an attempt at cleanliness.

The entrance swung open before he’d had the chance to do much, admitting both Yajirushi and Hinata into the spacious waiting room.

Hinata inched a little bit further into the room, passing Yajirushi who’d remained in the doorway. She looked unnaturally composed, her outfit still pressed to perfection and her hair done up in a simple bun. Her hands were clasped together, but not so tightly as to indicate anything was wrong. Were it not for the fact that they knew her so well, both men never would have noticed the tremble in her hands or the tightness of her jaw. To any outsider, she would have appeared the picture of serenity.

Once closer, she bowed to the Nara. “Shikamaru-san.”

“Hinata-sama,” he said, bending just slightly further. A brief glance revealed the way her body leaned towards her husband and Shikamaru decided it was high time he took his leave. They didn’t need him as a witness right now. “Hokage-sama. I’ll go meet with Sai. We’ll coordinate a statement for the papers.”

“Thank you, Shikamaru.”

“Mah, I just want this done. I’ll keep you updated,” Shikamaru said, waving a lazy hand in dismissal. He bowed again and followed Yajirushi back through the winding hallways.

Naruto and Hinata waited just a few moments to make sure the duo had gone far enough before finally acknowledging each other. They stood for a second, neither moving an inch as if afraid doing so would break whatever control they had. The air pressed heavily around them as they fought to keep their emotions in check.

Hinata broke first. 

With a jerky start, she staggered from her spot, swiftly crossing the distance between herself and her husband, and threw her arms around his chest. Naruto was quick to respond, wounding his own arms around her middle to pull her closer. They didn’t shake or cry; they just tightened their grips on each other as Naruto buried his face in his wife’s neck.

He drank in the feel of her, hand involuntarily trailing up her back towards the drape of her neck. His fingers traced the scant strands of hair, wanting to pull the rest free of that infernal bun and bury his hands in it. He wanted to take comfort in the familiar sensation of silk, wanted to smell the lavender in her shampoo. They trailed back down, fingers digging into her shirt, bunching the cloth and ruining the carefully ironed fabric. He could feel her own nails clutching at his cloak like a lifeline.

Naruto’s throat convulsed. “Himawari?”

“With Shino,” she replied, and Naruto shuddered in relief. At least one of their children was safe.

His wife choked, with a sob or with fear he couldn’t tell.

“Naruto,” she begged. “Tell me he’s alive.”

Naruto swallowed hard. “He’s alive.”

“And?” She pulled away. Soot and dirt stuck to her body, and it was only now that he realized how filthy he was. Blood, mud and ash clung to him like tenacious children. Hinata didn’t seem to mind, her attention focused on him as she awaited an answer.

“And that’s all I know."

She shook. “They haven’t told you anything?”

“No,” Naruto shook his head. “Nothing, yet.”

And wasn’t that worst part of it all? It had been helpful to concentrate on the one thing still under his control, but with that done what was left? All he had now were questions and worst-case-scenarios. He felt like a caged animal compressed beneath bars too small for his body. His blood boiled, Kyuubi’s bellows for revenge echoing his own. Surely if he could see his son for just a second – hold him for just a second – it would be alright. He would keep him safe. No one could hurt Boruto as long as his dad was there.

But he couldn’t – he wouldn’t – not only because he probably wouldn’t know where the hell to start, but because to barge in now would only sign Boruto’s death warrant, and that hurt far worse than any helplessness he felt now. Instead, Naruto pulled Hinata back into his arms. Her warm weight against his chest was soothing as her fingers bungled his shirt.

“I need him,” Naruto heard her whisper into his chest.

“I know,” he murmured into her ear, moving to place one hand on the back of her head.

He felt her own hands on his back, fists shaking at the tenacity, and her jaw trembled against him. “Do we know who did this?” She asked, words dripping poison as anguish turned to anger.

“No,” he said, debating on what to say. Could he burden her with his suspicions so soon? It really was nothing more than an assumption, based solely off an easy to forge direction. He had no other evidence to suggest– "But we have some ideas.”

“What ideas?” He didn’t speak up and Hinata tightened her grip. “What ideas, Naruto?” She demanded.

Damn his inability to hide anything from her. “Oto.”

She wrenched back, staring up at him in shock. “W-what?”

“Sai found tracks leading north towards the border of Oto. He didn’t go far, but I sent Sasuke a message with Gamadoro. If anyone can find out if Oto’s involved, Sasuke can.”

“Orochimaru,” she stated, without any sign of shock or skepticism.

It wasn’t a big leap to make, of course, not when it came to anything relating to the Sound, but they had thoroughly searched the country for years with no sign of him. Naruto had almost hoped he’d pulled a Kabuto and turned his life around, content to live in obscurity. Maybe he would have set up a hospital or something somewhere. Not so, apparently, but for him to make himself known now was unsettling. “Are you sure?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I can’t think of anyone else.”

Neither could she. If it had been any other country, then yes, but Oto would always be indelibly tied to Orochimaru. “What are we going to do?”

He didn’t know. _Fuck_ , he really didn’t know. Naruto couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this. He rested his chin on top of her head. “We’ll think of something.”

Hinata nodded, though it was obvious by the way she seemed to stare through him that she was unsure how. She bit her lip. “What are we going to tell Himawari?”

_Nothing_ , he wanted to tell her. Himawari would never know. But even Naruto knew such a plan was unrealistic. Their little girl would ask questions; she would want to know where her big brother was – why he wasn’t home. It was going to go out on the news and they would have to tell her something. Himawari was precocious. If they didn’t tell her, she would find out through someone else, and that was a prospect he desperately wanted to avoid.

“We’ll tell her the truth,” he finally managed. “We’ll tell her a bad man hurt Boruto and that baa-chan is taking care of him.”

“And what if–” she swallowed harshly, taking a deep breath to steel herself. “A-and what if he–”

He pulled her closer, cutting off what she was going to say. He didn’t want to hear it. “We won’t have to tell her that. Boruto will be fine. He’ll be fine and running us ragged just like normal. Everything will be fine, Hinata. He’ll be okay.”

“You promise?” She begged, her voice barely a whisper and drowned by the tears she was no doubt suppressing.

Naruto’s teeth clenched, pain radiating throughout his jaw. He pressed swallowed lips to the crown of her head. “I promise.”

They didn’t speak again. There was nothing left to say. Their thoughts were too chaotic for words, their emotions too wild for reason. So they stood there, clinging to each other, hoping that when they finally let go the world would be right and everything would be back to normal.

It was not to be. Letting go only proved to twist their hearts into unmanageable knots.

At some point, the two gravitated over towards the chairs. For hours they sat there, not speaking – just taking comfort in the other’s presence. Hinata’s head rested on her husband’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. Both had their free hands grasped in the other’s. ANBU filed in around midday, bringing report after report for Naruto to read. One was even kind enough to bring them a change of clothes. It forced them to move, if not function. More documents poured in and Naruto struggled to pay them any attention. It was a fruitless endeavor. He was too preoccupied monitoring his son’s debilitated chakra signature to focus on anything else.

It rose and fell at random intervals. Naruto’s leg spasmed with each fall – an involuntary prodding of his parental instincts telling him to go in and fix whatever was wrong. The only real thing that kept him from following through was Hinata’s tense presence at his side. It somewhat helped that each spell didn’t last too long, though somewhere between the Barrier Team’s update and Shino’s report Naruto noticed he’d been keeping count; by sundown, Boruto’s chakra signature had faded five times.

The emergency room light finally went off somewhere around six that evening. Night had already fallen, but being so far below ground neither Naruto nor Hinata noticed. They did feel the stiffness of their limbs however, and the ache from the chairs they had spent so long in, but their discomfort mattered little in comparison. All they cared about was the way Sakura wouldn’t meet their eyes.

Naruto’s knees locked. Hinata paled. They stood up stiffly in preparation.

Sakura took a deep breath. “He made it through the surgery,” she said, and Boruto’s parents sagged with relief. “But,” they tensed again, “he’s not out of the woods yet.”

“But he’s going to be okay, right Sakura-chan?” Naruto asked in desperation. When Sakura didn’t respond, he leaned forward and held up a hand as if to beg. “Sakura-chan?”

“Naruto,” the medic said, and it wasn’t hard to see that she was struggling to find some way to let him down gently. “Naruto, we don’t know.”

“What do you mean, ‘ _you don’t know_ ’?” He asked, nose flaring as he cycled amongst the complicated mixture of fear, disbelief, and misplaced anger. “How can you not know?”

“Naruto,” Hinata urged from his side. Her lips trembled and her fingers held his so tightly it was painful. He ignored her.

“No,” he said. “No, I want to know how the hell you can spend hours in there only to come out here and tell us that you don’t know if our _son_ is going to _fucking_ _live_?”

“Well, what do you want me to _say_ , Naruto?” Sakura yelled back. She was already angry at her own limitations; she didn’t need Naruto’s condemnation too.

“I want you to say he’ll be okay. I want you to say he’ll wake up and everything will go back to normal. I want you to tell me my son is going to live.”

“But I can’t tell you that,” Sakura whispered, brokenly.

“Why?” He rasped, his throat catching on the word.

“Because it would be a lie,” she replied. “Do you want me to lie to you?”

_Yes_ , Naruto wanted to say. Yes, he wanted her to lie and tell him all the things he wanted to hear, but even still, he couldn’t make himself say it. Naruto had always hated liars.

**_And yet, you're lying to the entire village._ **

_Shut. Up.  
_

“No,” he heard himself say. “No. I’m sorry, Sakura-chan.” He took a deep breath and pulled himself together. Only now did he notice he couldn’t feel his fingers. “What else did you have to say?”

Sakura bit her lip, green eyes flashing between them both uneasily. With a guiding wave of her hand, she motioned to their abandoned chairs. “Let’s take a seat.”

The medic inched forward, but Naruto blocked her path. “We’d rather stand, Sakura-chan. If it’s all the same to you.”

“Naruto–”

“We would like to stand,” Hinata reiterated, sounding impossibly like Neji in that moment. “Please, Sakura-chan.”

Sakura didn’t like it and it was clear in the way she held her arms close to her chest, but she wasn’t about to make waves over something so trivial. The option was only there for Naruto and Hinata’s comfort anyway.

“Alright,” she relented, fingering the unnecessary diagnostic charts in her hand. With a deep breath, she allowed the friend to melt away behind the guise of an experienced doctor. “First things first, then: we’ve placed him in a coma.” She held up her hand to stall the exclamations she was sure were about to follow, but was pleasantly surprised when the only visible reaction she got was a widening of their eyes and a tensing of their shoulders. “It’s not uncommon in these situations. His injuries are extensive and there were some fractures to his skull. Because of the amount of swelling, our best option was to give the brain time to recover on its own.

“The minor injuries – lacerations, burns – were healed well enough, but his right leg and arm were broken in the fall, and his eardrums were ruptured by the blast. We’ve set the bones and repaired his ears, and expect a full recovery on those fronts,” she continued mechanically, flipping one of the papers over the clipboard as if she needed to.

“What we’re most concerned about is what are termed primary blast injuries. Under normal circumstances, shinobi rarely have to deal with this. Our chakra is capable of protecting us against pressures and temperatures that would usually kill a normal civilian. The problem is that, while Boruto’s chakra network is exceptionally advanced for his age, it’s also still developing. It was only able to take a portion of the blast, and even then it was severely damaged. No doubt, were Boruto from any other family his situation would be quite different.” A pregnant pause followed as the Sakura allowed them time to absorb this. “The blast caused a significant amount of trauma to his chest and abdomen. We’re going to be–”

“I’m sorry, what kind of trauma?” Hinata interjected, her expression distant.

Sakura’s gaze skirted across the file in her hand and Naruto momentarily wondered if it was really necessary or if she was trying to buy time. Her throat bobbed, and Naruto guessed he had his answer.

Sakura’s hands fell to her side. “It’s something called blast lung. We repaired what we could right now, but he’s still having difficulty breathing. If that was the only problem, it wouldn’t be as big of a deal, but his GI tract was also hit quite harshly. There were a few perforations and ruptures that may require further surgery, but the more his body can heal on its own the better.

“Now, there was also some damage to his eyes. We found blood leaking into the outer chamber and, while we have every reason to believe we were successful in repairing the damage, we can’t be sure until he wakes up. If everything went well, he should expect nothing more than a little pain."

“And if it didn’t?” rasped Hinata.

Sakura swayed her head, teeth gritted. “Then it’s possible that he may suffer from vision difficulties in the future,” she admitted.

“I see.” Hinata grew quiet, leaning herself further against her husband. Naruto didn’t mind.

“Yes, well,” Sakura cleared her throat, “the only other major issue we foresee is the possibility of chakra poisoning. As you know, too much pressure against the chakra coils can be…detrimental,” she said, picking the word carefully. Lethal would be the correct term and all of them knew it, but if Sakura could offer her friends any comfort it would be to at least not say the word out loud. “The strain of absorbing the blast combined with the extra pressure ruptured a few of his tenketsu. We’ve repaired what we could, but the possibility of a leak is high enough to raise concern, and if this happens his chakra could escape from his coils. If it does that, it could end up burning away at his organs.”

“And if this happens?” Naruto asked. He was intimately aware of what it felt like to have chakra burn away at his body and he would never wish it on his son.

“Then we rush him back into surgery very quickly.”

“Oh.”

There was really nothing else for it. What could he say? _“I understand?”_ He didn’t understand. Most of what she said went completely over his head. All he got was further confirmation of what he already feared. Boruto could die. He could lose his son, and he was so numbed by that knowledge that he failed to notice Sakura move. He didn’t even realize she had cupped his chin until she was forcing him to look at her.

“Hey. He’s got both Tsunade-sama and me on his case. He isn’t going to die that easily,” she said, as if saying it would make it true.

“But he still could.”

“Yes.”

Naruto bobbed and looked away. “Okay,” he whispered, making it very clear he was not okay.

Sakura sighed, but refrained from moving closer. He was too worked up and she would only make it worse if she made to hug him. Best to give him space for now. With some reluctance, Sakura pulled her hand away. “Look, I can’t tell you everything will be okay, but I can tell you we’ll be doing everything in our power to make sure he gets better. Tsunade-sama and I will be here the whole time. Boruto-chan won’t so much as sneeze without us knowing.”

That did make Naruto feel somewhat better, if only minutely.

“How long do you think before h-he wakes up?” Hinata asked, her tongue stumbling over the words.

Sakura did a little half-shrug, everything about her apologetic. “We don’t really know. We’re hoping we won’t have to keep him under for more than a week or so, but honestly it’s all up to him at this point. He’s strong though, and he’s got your hard head, Naruto. If anyone’s gonna get through this, it’ll be him.”

Naruto’s mouth ticked upwards. “Thanks, Sakura-chan.” Beside him, Hinata nodded her assent, eyes misty. Both of them were far too pale for Sakura’s liking.

She scoffed, face tinged with exasperated fondness. “You don’t have to thank me, idiot,” she said. “It’s my job. Besides, I love that kid too you know.”

The Hokage’s lips pursed tremulously – gratefully. “I know.” He swallowed harshly, bringing up a palm in askance. “Can we see him?”

“Of course,” Sakura said, maneuvering to gently take the hand. To Naruto, it felt more like a manacle chaining him in place. “We’ve moved him to a room and Tsunade-sama is personally making sure he’s all set up, but you have to be quiet and mindful of what you touch.”

Naruto and Hinata nodded, squeezing each other’s hands fervently in reassurance. Sakura then tugged them forward towards the door closest to them.

“He’s in here. Tsunade-sama will be taking the first shift, so if you need anything or anything happens, let her know. I’ll be on standby at home, just in case,” Sakura stated, opening the door. She held it open for them and they entered on lead feet, Naruto pulling Hinata just slightly.

Were it not for the machines, it would have been a remarkably cheery room. There was a soft brown couch against the far wall, plush with pillows and a thick blanket, with a side table positioned nearby. Bright moonlight splayed through the window, melding comfortably with the gentle light of the overhanging lamps. Naruto briefly wondered how such a spectacle was possible so far below ground, and then remembered the genjutsu and surmised it must be something similar.

It was possibly the most comfortable hospital room Naruto had ever seen and he couldn’t even bring himself to care. The only thing that mattered was the child lying wan and dwarfed beneath a series of thin blankets. Boruto’s hair had been washed of blood and his clothes replaced by pale green hospital robes. Bandages covered him from head to toe, leaving very little skin for Naruto to see. Only the tips of his fingers were visible under the wrappings and they were covered in wires and tubes, pumping in all manner of fluids Naruto couldn’t begin to guess at. A ventilator sat next to Boruto’s bed, whirring loudly.

Tsunade stood facing them, her body bent over the boy having finished adjusting a wire somewhere behind his ear. Her face was sallow and, though her henge hadn’t yet dropped, Naruto was just able to make out a few wrinkles along her forehead. Rough fingers tangled through Boruto’s hair, gently playing with the locks sticking out from under his bandages. Only now did Naruto notice how uneven they were, as if bits of his hair had been hacked away.

“Tsunade-sama,” greeted Sakura from somewhere to his left.

The older woman exhaled deeply. “I heard you.” She cracked her neck, shuffling away from the bed. “He’s all set up if you want to head home, Sakura. I’ll take it from here.”

The pink haired woman bowed, casting a sidelong glance to her friends that they didn’t catch. “Right. I should get Sarada, anyway. Almost dinner, after all. I assume she...”

“Shino,” uttered Naruto absently. It had been on some document somewhere. His throat strained under the effort. “Shino has her.”

Sakura shifted awkwardly, caught between gratefulness and pity. “Oh.” She scuffled her feet. “Thank you, Naruto,” she said trying to smile, but he wouldn’t look at her, and she and Tsunade exchanged furtive glances.

She started forward. “Naruto, I-”

“Sakura.” Tsunade stopped her. She shook her head and flicked hazel eyes to the door meaningfully. Sakura slouched in dejection.

“Right,” she stated dismally in acquiescence. There were too many people in the room already. Pasting on a thin smile, all swallowed lips instead of teeth, Sakura said, “I’ll be in when my shift starts.” Her eyes flashed between the assembled group and she bowed stiffly. “Hokage-sama. Hinata-sama. Tsunade-sama.”

Tsunade was the only one to acknowledge her as she made her way out the door. Naruto and Hinata remained unresponsive, and with one last backwards glance Sakura quietly left, closing the door with a soft click.

The Godaime clacked her tongue.

“Well come in. You’re not doing any good by standing there.”

In some ways, Naruto appreciated the caustic remark. Shikamaru and Sakura had been so overly cautious of his feelings that it had started to irritate him. The fact that Tsunade wasn’t talking to them like they were made of glass was oddly comforting.

If she could talk like that, then surely it couldn’t be as bad as it looked.

“Careful where you step,” Tsunade remarked, as the two parents edged their way further into the room. It took them far more effort than it should have and they only made it halfway to the bed before they could go no further.

Tsunade sniffed disapprovingly.

“Is that it? I expected better from you two.” When they still didn’t move, Tsunade sighed. The diamond on her forehead scrunched between resigned brows. “It could be worse, you know,” she said, not unkindly. “He could not be here at all.”

At that, Hinata inhaled loudly, hand rising to muffle the sound. Naruto flinched, violently.

Tsunade sighed again, drawing herself up. “Look, I understand it’s not what you want to hear, but what you want isn’t my concern. You need to understand just how far he has to go and how much he’s going to need you.”

“Sakura already explained, baa-chan,” Naruto added, with a note of _‘I-don’t-want-to-hear-anything-else_.’

“I’m aware,” Tsunade said, ignoring his tone. “But I’m not talking about his physical needs. Recovering from injuries like these are not a simple matter of healing the wounds; his mentality could mean the difference between life or death. We have plenty of evidence to suggest Boruto will have at least some comprehension of what is going on around him. He can hear you. He’ll know you’re here. And if he thinks you’ve given up on him then he might just give up too, and there won’t be a damn thing Sakura and I can do to help.”

“W-wait?” Naruto started forward, freezing at the last second. “You think we’d–? We’d never do that!”

“Intentionally, no. I know you both well enough to think otherwise. But,” and she pointedly inspected their feet, “fear has a way of playing with you.”

Again, Naruto flinched, this time pushing aside the retort dangling from his lips. He couldn’t argue with her, especially when he couldn’t necessarily prove her wrong.

“We understand,” Hinata answered for them both. She placed her hand steadily on Naruto’s forearm and he felt some of the tension leave his body.

Though she didn’t look completely satisfied, Tsunade nevertheless let the matter drop. She motioned towards their son. “We’ve set him up on a ventilator to help regulate his breathing, and a feeding tube so we can make sure he’s getting proper nutrients. This,” she pointed to the wire behind his ear, “is helping us to drain some of the fluid building up under his skull. _Don’t_ touch it.” Her gimlet stare was enough warning of the consequences should they do so, not that Naruto had any such intentions of touching anything.

“Nurses will be in every so often to turn him over so he doesn’t develop any bedsores. Once he’s more stable we can teach you to do it. This line here is delivering his seizure medication and…” she went on. There was a catheter for wastes, anti-embolism stockings to prevent clots, an EKG for his heart, a pulse oximeter to measure blood oxygen – Naruto tuned her out halfway through. He could barely understand a word of it so it did little help to listen. A careful eye was all he managed, watching wherever she pointed. It wouldn’t do to jostle something accidentally, and it wasn’t until Tsunade moved to a wire along Boruto’s chest that a slight breeze was able to jolt Naruto out of his daze. Hinata had found her footing and inched away from him to edge closer to their son.

He observed the way her feet moved along the linoleum – quick, but hesitant, as if she couldn’t decide whether or not she wanted to approach the boy or leave the room entirely. Either way, she was doing much better than he was; he couldn’t move at all.

_Coward._

Naruto didn’t actually notice when Tsunade stopped talking, but he did feel her hand on his shoulder as she turned to leave. With a gentle squeeze, she caught his attention. “He’ll be okay, Naruto.”

“You can’t promise that,” he rasped back, not sure if the low tone was for Hinata’s benefit or his own weakness.

“No,” she answered frankly, “but he’s got better chances than most. Don’t start doubting him now.”

With a quiet huff, Naruto shadowed a grin. “Never.”

“Good.” She studied him intently. Then, in a bid of sympathy, she asked, “Do you want me to handle the paperwork tonight?”

Shit. He hadn’t even thought about the paperwork. Funny how just this morning his biggest problem was how much money to allocate between the different Academy programs. How was he supposed to deal with all the mundane shit _and_ this without going insane?

A wholly unconvincing smile morphed out of the one already on his face and he heard himself say, “I thought you said you’d never touch another slip of paperwork as long as you lived.” He let out a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to him.

Tsunade smiled anyway. “Then you should take advantage of the offer because I won’t be doing it again.”

She didn’t mean that and he knew it, but a small part of him wanted to refuse. He was the Hokage now. It was his job to manage the village. Tsunade was retired and she’d already spent herself healing his son. To ask her to spend more of her time and energy doing his job felt…negligent, like he wasn’t living up to expectations.

Something on his face must have tipped her off to his line of thinking because Tsunade gently used her fingers to turn his face towards her. “Look, I’m going to be up anyway, at least until Sakura relieves me. You might as well give me something to do before I get bored enough to bring out the sake.”

“You’re gonna bring out the sake anyway,” Naruto mumbled, but now a grin was beginning to curl up his face, one far more honest than the prior one.

“Brat,” she uttered, affection dotting her tone. It was true though. First thing she planned on doing once she got back to her office was open a new bottle and down it.

“Hag,” Naruto replied halfheartedly, and Tsunade wacked him softly upside the head. It didn’t even make him flinch.

“Just for that I take back the offer.”

“Really?” He didn’t know why the thought was so disappointing. Hadn’t he just been lamenting the very thought of her helping?

“Do you want me to?” She eyed him steadily, ready to accept whatever he told her, but Naruto knew giving her the wrong answer would leave her severely disappointed in him. The child in him shriveled at the thought.

Naruto could never stand to disappoint people.

“No,” he whispered, while the word _yes_ echoed in his head. Tsunade’s pleased glow didn’t help either. What message did it send to have Tsunade dealing with village matters? Would people think he didn’t care about their needs? Would it look like he was giving his son priority?

_Stop_ , he scolded himself. The village had been infiltrated. The Hokage’s family attacked. Konoha threatened. Of course this would have to take priority over more mundane matters. People would understand.

_But what if they don’t?_

Tsunade _tsk_ -ed beside him and squeezed his shoulder again. “Oi, don’t look so glum. It’s just for tonight. Tomorrow we can come up with a more permanent solution, at least until Kakashi gets back, alright?”

Naruto nodded, eyes tracing the wall behind her. “Alright.”

He heard Tsunade’s release of breath. “If it makes you feel better I’ll send anything pertinent to you.”

Well, it was something. “Thanks, baa-chan.”

“Hmm,” she intoned, not sounding as if it was something he should be thanking her for. “Just don’t give me another patient to work on, okay? One of you is enough. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“At least you admit it,” he said, once more accepting the slap she sent to his head. This one was a little rougher. “Oi, you keep doing that and I will be your patient.”

“Cheeky little–” but Tsunade cut herself off. “Just get some rest, alright?” Her eyes trailed away from him and over to Hinata and Boruto. She turned somber. “You can be Hokage tomorrow, Naruto. The village won’t begrudge you being a father tonight.”

Naruto’s chin trembled. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Tsunade understood anyway.

She leaned forward, finger poised to poke him, and he flinched instinctively. That said, he was almost not surprised when she instead used it to pull him in and lay a gentle, motherly kiss to his forehead. He was taller than her now, and stronger, but the feeling it left was the same indescribable warmth he’d experienced the first time she’d done it all those years ago. He sniffled, loudly.

With a tremulous, grateful nod Naruto pulled away. Tsunade’s thumb caught on his cheek and she used it to brush something aside. It almost felt wet. Her lips tightened in what could have been the beginnings of a sympathetic smile before she pulled away. With a small inclination of her head towards his family, Tsunade maneuvered towards the exit. Seconds later, the door clicked shut and Naruto listened as she moved further and further away, the telltale clacking of her heals echoing in her wake.

They were alone.

The air in the room condensed around him as it finally registered. He hadn’t even realized how much of a distraction Tsunade provided until she was gone. Now, there was nothing to prevent him from facing his family. He swallowed harshly and dragged his gaze forward.

Hinata sat in the chair facing him, her back so straight it had to be painful and her hands twisting spasmodically in her lap. She’d been silent throughout his exchange with Tsunade and he briefly wondered if that was on purpose or if she just hadn’t noticed? Judging by the expression on her face, he was leaning towards the latter.

Naruto watched one of her hands twitch, the appendage inching closer to the bed only to flinch back as if burned. Once more, twice, three times. Her fingers danced along the sheets, like she was simply straightening the bedspread – like Boruto was home and had merely fallen asleep for the night.

The sound of his ventilator was deafening.

“There are so many tubes,” Hinata muttered into the stillness. A desperate laugh bubbled from her chest. “I don’t know where to touch him.” She turned to him, searching for some kind of answer. “Naruto, I don’t know where to touch him.”

Naruto could only stare helplessly back at her. He had no answer. The floor swayed beneath his feet and a stone had long since pitted itself in his stomach. But he couldn’t let Hinata down. She needed him to be strong. Boruto needed him to be strong.

He managed to lift one foot in front of the other, his goal the chair facing his wife so that he might be able to give her some measure of comfort. He didn’t know if it worked, but if he could draw strength from her then maybe he could give some back.

“Well, I guess we…” he trailed off trying to find somewhere safe to touch. Boruto just looked so fragile. Naruto was afraid contact of any kind would only hurt him further.

He examined his son’s hands – his tiny, tiny fingertips, the nails chipped and bruised. Naruto reached out to them, paying extra attention not to dislodge the IVs or jostle the pulse ox. His own fingers traced along his son’s, testing to see if they would break. They didn’t and Boruto continued his mechanical breathing.

“I guess we can hold his hands,” he said. He gently twisted his flesh-and-blood fingers around the underside of his son’s broken ones and held tight. The warmth was indescribable against his skin and he swallowed passed the tears lumping in his throat.

Across the bed, Hinata did the same with Boruto’s other hand and he knew instantly the moment relief took hold. She sniffled back a cry and wiped at her eyes, before reaching out with her free hand to cup his bandaged cheek.

She gasped out another choked sob, but somehow still managed to smile. It looked dazzling. “Hi sweetheart,” she began, roving every inch of his face as if trying to memorize it. “It’s mommy. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I just wanted to let you know how much I love you and how much I can’t wait to see you open your eyes again. I know you’re going to be just fine. I have faith in you.” She choked again, but didn’t pull away. “A-and when you wake up, we’ll be here to see you. We’ll be right here, so you don’t have to worry about fighting a-alone. Mommy and d-daddy are going to help you. I promise, sweetheart. I promise, and we don’t ever go b-back on our promises, r-right?”

She ducked her head, and Naruto reached out with his prosthetic to cover her hand with his own. The feeling in his fake arm had never been quite the same as his real one, but in this instance he found he much preferred the odd tingling sensation to nothing. Hinata’s face was wretched, and he did his best to smile. Her lips twitched in return and she gently twisted her hand so that she could stroke the back of his with her thumb.

“Hey buddy, you listen to your mom, okay? She’s usually right about these things, you know? Besides, mom’s not the only one rooting for you. Dad’s here, too. I know you’re gonna be fine. You’re strong like that. One of these days you’ll be stronger than mom and me. You just–you just gotta get through this. I know it’ll be hard, but we’re gonna help. So, you don’t have to be afraid. You have so many people willing to help, so you just have to wake up soon and let us know you’re okay. Can you do that?” There was no response, not that Naruto had expected one. He dutifully ignored the way it made his heart clench and tried to smile, afraid it came out a little bitter. “That’s okay, you’re tired. It’s been a long day. You just sleep, okay? You sleep and mom and dad will be here to protect you. We’ll keep you safe, Boru. I promise, we’ll keep you safe.”

He couldn’t talk after that. His throat closed, a strange convulsing of the muscles as his chest grew tight. A thousand words hung from his lips, but he was unable to say any of them. All he could do was sit and wait – wait for any sign of life besides the beeping of the machines and the sound of the ventilator. He held his son’s hand like a lifeline.

“He’s so still,” Hinata finally muttered after a bout of silence. It was startling to hear her at first – like an unwanted interruption inside his brain. Everything about her spoke of longing, though it could just as easily been grief. “He’s never still when he sleeps.”

“No,” Naruto half-laughed. “No, he’s usually too busy rolling around.”

“He got that from you."

This time the laugh was fuller. “Yeah, though that whole curling up into a ball thing he got from you.”

“True,” she smiled. It only lasted a moment, as her eyes continued to drink in the visage before her. “I don’t like seeing him so still.”

“Me neither,” Naruto agreed. It was unnerving.

There was another length of silence as the two basked in the feeling of Boruto’s pulse under their fingers. Hinata carefully stroked his cheek with her thumb. She ignored the sensation of bandages and plastic and just reveled in the miniscule movements. Naruto compulsively counted his son’s fingers.

_One. Two. Three. Four. Five_. His hand quivered. The roiling power from hours ago roiled beneath his fingertips, ready for the slightest slip to escape. He grit his teeth. _Not now_ , he scolded himself. _Not here_. But the thrumming was persistent, and with it the niggling doubt he’d harbored all day. If he had acted sooner after the blast, if he’d gotten there before Sakura, if he hadn’t frozen like an _idiot_ , would his son be like this now? He’d grown Kakashi a new eye and brought Gai back from the brink of death; surely, he could have done something for his own son. Surely, he could _still_ do something.

**Doesn’t work like that, Naruto** , Kurama reminded from the dregs of his mind.

_Why?_ Something akin to loathing rose in his chest. His whole body grew hot with each new count of Boruto’s broken fingers. _Why can’t it?_

**It’s not a cure-all. You can’t do everything.**

_If I’d acted sooner. If I hadn’t frozen-_

**It wouldn’t have made a difference** , Kurama rebutted. **Fact is, Naruto, his body was so badly damaged that even if you did manage to move, you would have just gotten in the way.  
**

_I could have healed the burns, or-or his eyes or his chakra or-_

**Or nothing.** The Kyuubi sighed, deep and echoing. **Could you have healed the burns? Maybe. But you don’t know the first thing about internal injuries. You couldn’t have fixed his eyes if you tried.  
**

_I did with Kakashi._

**No. You gave him a new eye. Your chakra just copied his other one. And with the kid’s chakra system so badly damaged, flooding it with your own would have just made it worse.  
**

Naruto snorted, unamused. _I could feel his life flickering. I don’t think it could have **gotten** any worse. _

**You say that, but even I know he’s better off than he has any right to be. If he weren’t of your blood chances are he would be dead.  
**

_Please don’t say that, Kurama.  
_

**I thought you didn’t like people who lied? Especially people who lied to themselves?** That was a low blow, and even without being able to see him, Naruto could feel the fox’s reproachful stare. He swallowed roughly.

_I don’t_ , but he was being a hypocrite and he knew it. Already today he'd set up the biggest lie of his life and spoonfed it to his people. And still, just this once, he thought he might have preferred the lie.

Kurama easily picked up on this and chuffed disbelievingly into the void. **Alright, how about this. What would you say if I told you he’d wake up tomorrow perfectly fine? You’re all happy and excited, but tomorrow comes and it doesn’t happen. How would you feel then, with all your hopes crushed? How would you feel about the lie I’d told you just to make you feel better for a single moment? Would that single moment of relief make up for the rest of your son’s lifetime?**

_No_ , Naruto choked.

**No,** the Kyuubi agreed. **Face it, you couldn’t do anything, but your medics could and they did and he’s here now. When he gets a little better, maybe – _maybe_ – we can try healing him. But right now, you’d just make it worse.  
**

The truth in that statement hurt. Everything about it hurt, and Naruto subconsciously twisted his fingers further around his son’s. The energy in his veins pulsed.

_I’m going to kill them, Kurama._ If he couldn’t use his power to heal, then he could at least use it to find those responsible. And when he did…

**_We’ll_ kill them, brat. They won’t even know they’re dying by the time we get through with them.**

The thought made Naruto smile. _Thank you, Kurama._

**For you, kid, anything.**

Hinata’s breath hitched, pulling her husband’s attention away from Kurama and back into the real world. He could feel the Kyuubi hedging away, returning to the seal to plot as his wife focused wide, terrified eyes on him.

“Hinata?”

“What are we going to tell Himawari?”

_Shit._

Naruto leaned back in his chair, a sense of profound helplessness pulling him down like a particularly violent whirlpool.

_What_ were they going to tell their daughter? It was one thing to discuss options when the evidence of his own failure wasn’t staring him in the face, but there was no way they could tell Himawari what had really happened to her brother. “I don’t know,” he muttered, words smothering like a heavy weight on their shoulders. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe and he fell back on counting Boruto’s fingers. The repetition was soothing.

_One, two, three, four, five_. _One, two, three, four, five_. Five perfect fingers. He continued the cycle. Over and over he repeated his count, trying to keep his emotions at bay. What were they going to tell their daughter? They couldn’t show her this. She would have nightmares for the rest of her life. But what if Boruto didn’t make it? What would they tell Himawari then?

No. Boruto would be fine. He would wake up and everything would go back to normal.

_Do you really think it’s that simple?_

_No._ But then what was he supposed to do? Follow them the rest of their lives? Was he doomed to stand watch over their shoulders, an over-protective father, wondering if everyone had it out for his children? _Of course, they’ll be after them. This is only the first of many. You’re the Hokage. You’re the Hero of the World. You put your children in danger just by being you._ Acid burned his throat and Naruto smelled the bile far before he tasted it. _You did this. This is your fault._ It was all his fault and if he planned to fix anything he would have to start by making sure that any further attempt was thwarted before it even began.

_The ANBU._ He would have to rearrange the ANBU. There was already a detail on him just by the nature of his position, and a team rotating his house, but gone were the days where he’d thought to assign one to every member of his family. That would have to change. Himawari and Boruto were too vulnerable, and while Hinata wouldn’t like it, she’d at least understand. The only problem was that he would have to manage this while maintaining the emergency protocols and keeping up with all the missions still filing in.

_Gods_ , there was so much _shit_ he had to do. All the reports left half-read were only going to pile up, and that didn’t even take into account the personal meetings he had to have now with each department. They couldn’t lock down the village for too long lest trade suffer and he would have to reassure the Civilian Assembly soon that the routes were safe. He would also have to inform the Kage since Boruto’s attack was not only an affront against him, but also the village at large. If the other villages were similarly struck and it got out that he’d kept mum, well then he could very swiftly kiss his alliances goodbye.

For a split-second, Naruto wondered if Kakashi wanted the hat back.

_No_ , he scolded himself. This was his dream. He’d known what it entailed when he agreed to the mantle, and yet had already dragged Tsunade back under the hat. How could he think to do the same to his teacher? Kakashi was retired – had earned his retirement! It was his responsibility now. He couldn’t just run away like a child. The time for doing so had long since passed.

Naruto ran a thumb along his son’s hand, doing his best to ignore the plaster. The white wrappings were achingly similar to his own. Usually the sight of his prosthetic was enough to fill him with pride – he’d gotten it to save his friend, after all – but now it was all he could do to look at it. He never wanted his son to feel that kind of agony. With every stroke he had to awkwardly stop and twist his hand so as not to dislodge any of the needles. Boruto hated needles.

The rage returned. It roiled in his chest in a way even the Kyuubi’s hatred never had. Copper danced tantalizingly along his tongue and he wished rather vindictively that Ino would keep her guests alive long enough for him to get there and watch. Maybe she’d even let him have a swing or two. It would be very cathartic.

**_We’ll kill them,_** Kurama’s promise echoed in his head.

_Good._

Because he wanted these people dead as he had never wanted anyone else. He wanted them to feel the same pain he was feeling right now. He wanted them to know the suffering they caused his family – the anguish they had caused his son. And he wanted, so, _so_ , desperately for them to see it coming – to see it coming and know they were powerless to stop it. He wanted to look them in the eyes and see their fear. Perhaps then they’d understand what they’d done.

But most of all, he wanted to find the person who ordered this, whether they be Orochimaru or some other monster. He wanted to see the horror on their face, the knowledge that they had caused their own demise. Naruto did not believe in revenge. He’d spent too many years trying to drag his friend back from the brink to fall prey to it. Instead, he would call for retribution – retribution for a wrong done to an innocent child.

Anticipation speared through his veins. His face set, his jaw clenched, and his teeth ground sharply together. Aureate eyes simmered in the dim light, pupils contracting into slits. Naruto took a deep breath and forced himself to hold it all back – back into the depths of his mind to fester. Now was not the time for rage. It had no place near his son. But later, he would need it. He would build it up, save it, and keep it at the ready. It would be motivation.

Because Naruto would find the people who did this…

_And he would destroy them._


	2. I Wouldn't Tear the Earth Asunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and left kudos. They made me so happy and I'm glad you all enjoyed it. All of the warnings and remarks from the last chapter apply to this one as well. 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy!

Uchiha Sarada was usually of the opinion that the further she could associate herself from Uzumaki Boruto the better off she’d be. He was a slacker and egotistical and grated on her nerves in a way few others could attest. Worse, he was always there, right in her face, like sun glare off a kunai. Everything he did threw her off, from his shouting to his bragging to his condescension. She couldn’t stand any of it.

So it was with not a small amount of relief that Sarada walked into class that day to find his desk empty. No doubt he was off pulling a prank or meandering about the roof playing some stupid game with his friends. He’d probably come running in at the last minute like always, a dopey grin on his face and laziness in his gait. One day that boy was going to get himself killed and all Sarada would be able to say was that he had it coming.

“Morning, Sarada-chan,” Chōchō sang around a mouthful of potato chips.

Sarada grinned and raised her own hand in greeting. She pulled out the seat beside her friend, plopping down quickly and tugged out last night’s homework from her bag. It was neatly filled out, as always, with neither wrinkle nor tear. Chōchō’s had grease stains in the corners.

“You know you’re gonna get points docked for that, right?”

Chōchō shrugged, unperturbed. “Not my fault sensei gives out homework when there are so many other important things to be doing.”

Sarada grinned, her brow quirking. “Like what? Eating?”

“And cooking. Mama made okonomiyaki last night and you won’t believe what I had to do to fix that mess. She never gets the sauce right. I pretty much saved the whole clan.”

“You should be deified,” Sarada joked.

“I should, shouldn’t I? Singlehandedly kept my family from starving. It’s a full-time job, Sarada-chan. Shino-sensei should be happy I did the work at all.”

Sarada snorted good-naturedly. “I’m sure he’ll be honored.”

“What about you? Done to perfection?”

“Of course,” she replied, waving the work about for a moment.

“Not even a smudge,” Chōchō marveled. “Hey, what did you get for number twelve?”

They passed the time before class comparing notes and chatting about Chōchō’s latest crush (a cute new genin who’d helped her father out one day at one of their family’s restaurants) as the rest of their classmates bustled around them. The prattle quieted only when Shino-sensei strode in, but didn’t fully stop until he’d finished putting up the day’s agenda and began roll call.

“Akimichi Chōchō,” he began, pen poised over the attendance sheet.

“Here!”

“Goetsu Dōshu.”

“Here!”

Shino continued down the list. Sarada stayed poised in her chair, attention steady on the teacher as was expected. A few classmates whispered to each other, but were quickly silenced by one of Shino’s pointed stares.

“Uchiha Sarada.”

“Here!” She raised her hand in the air and watched as Aburame-sensei ticked her name off, continuing her perfect attendance for another day.

“Uzumaki Boruto.”

 Silence.

Instinctually, Sarada’s eyes flickered to Boruto’s usual seat. Empty air was the only thing between Shikadai and Denki. Her face twisted in annoyance. Did he have no respect? He was going to hold up the whole class with his nonsense.

“Uzumaki Boruto,” Shino called again, though he had obviously noticed the hole where the boy was supposed to be.

There were a few grumblings and murmurs from around the room. Chōchō snorted and stuffed a handful of chips into her mouth. Sarada scowled. Shino-sensei held up his hand for silence as he stepped forward and hedged towards Shikadai.

“Nara-kun, do you know of Uzumaki-kun’s whereabouts?”

 _Like what foolishness he’s decided to do now that would make him this late,_ Sarada grumbled, propping her chin up with her palm. If anyone was going to know it would be Shikadai and even he wasn’t a good enough liar to hide from Shino-sensei’s kikaichū. They’d figured that out when they were five.

But something was off. Sarada pulled herself up a little straighter and narrowed her eyes. Shikadai was too tense. He was worrying his lip and his head shook slowly. “No, sensei. He stopped at the bakery, but he should have been here by now.”

“Is that so? And he wouldn’t happened to have a prank planned for today, would he?”

Again, Sarada took note of Shikadai’s furrowed brow. He was surprisingly pale. “Not that I know of.” And everyone knew that Boruto couldn’t keep his pranks a secret from his best friend. He just wasn’t capable of it.

A faint buzzing filled the room, so quiet Sarada thought she had imagined it. But no, her teacher’s sleeves were billowing too much for that to be the case. Slowly, her frustration ebbed replaced by a strange tunneling sensation as she straightened and craned her neck to the door. Surprising even herself was the hope that her childhood nuisance would come barreling through, apologies and excuses spewing from his lips.

_This isn’t funny, idiot._

Boruto wasn’t the type to skip class, not completely, and not without informing Shikadai. It was the one thing in his favor Sarada begrudgingly admitted. He was a good student, despite his many flaws, and it stood as one of the greatest sources of Sarada’s frustration. Everything came so easily to him that if he just put a little more effort into training Sarada might have actually been able to admire him.

But even though Sarada knew how little he cared for the Academy, she was also very aware of how much he treasured his mother’s expectations. If Aunt Hinata told him to go to school, he would do it without even thinking to question otherwise. Boruto was the type of delinquent who at least waited until after class to pull his shenanigans.

Shino carefully lowered the call sheet. Despite not being able to see his eyes, it was apparent that he was surveying the room. Kikaichū flittered out from under his coat and the class watched, mesmerized, as the small swarm filtered into the air ducts. Stifling silence pressed down on their shoulders, and the students began muttering to each other just to fill the void.

Sarada’s gut twisted painfully.

“Someone’s gonna be in _trou~ble_ ,” Chōchō whispered beside her. The girl’s hand was buried in another bag of crisps and, at the outset, appeared unfazed, but Sarada was keen to notice she had yet to pull out another chip.

Snorting to bury the unwanted apprehension in her belly, Sarada grumbled, “Probably already in trouble,” but there was less ire in her voice than she’d intended and Chōchō immediately picked up on it.

She grinned, her lips pulling upwards impishly, as her fingers curled inside the bag. “Right.”

Across the room, Inojin’s brow was furrowed in confusion, but even so he didn’t look too worried. If anything he was exasperated, which, considering this was Boruto, was entirely warranted. Most likely the other blond had been distracted by some game or another and forgotten all about the time. It wouldn’t surprise her, and Inojin spent more time with him anyway. He would know if something was going on. But no, her mind supplied, dark eyes trailing to the front row, he wouldn’t know more than Shikadai.

Shikadai, who looked ready to be sick all over the floor.

Sarada leaned towards Chōchō. “You don’t think–” but she was cut off by the sound of their teacher’s insects rushing back into the classroom. A few hovered about his head and it was fascinating to see how quickly the man went from dorky Academy teacher to experienced shinobi. Sarada could just make out the whites of his knuckles. Whatever the insects were saying, Shino-sensei wasn’t happy with it.

Silence stretched throughout the room until it grew uncomfortable. A second passed, one in which Sarada tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, and then their teacher slowly, deliberately, placed the attendance sheet back onto his desk. The whistling of displaced air might as well have been a gong. Sixteen sets of eyes stayed riveted on the jounin as he made quick, steady strides towards the exit. Another Shino appeared near the front of the class as soon as their real instructor was gone.

For a moment, everything was still. Sarada squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. The clone, whether in an effort to fill the quiet or to confirm a theory, didn’t waste time picking the call sheet back up.

“I am going to read everyone’s names aloud once more. Please speak when your name is called and remain quiet while I confirm attendance,” Shino-sensei said, pining them all with a weighty stare.

“Akimichi Chōchō.”

“Here!”

And so the roll call continued. Adrenaline flooded Sarada’s veins, to the point where she was almost convinced it had replaced her blood entirely. Her heart was running a mile a minute and she had to cover her hands to keep them from shaking. There was an undercurrent of excitement in the room. Whatever was going on was much more interesting than the usual monotony of Shinobi History. Of course they would be excited. Sarada, for her part, couldn’t find it in herself to join them. Shino-sensei had exited too abruptly for her to be anything but cautious.

Sarada hazarded a glance at her best friend.

Whatever apathy Chōchō felt had evaporated the minute Shino-sensei left the room. She too was from an old shinobi clan, raised on stories of war and paranoia. The bag of chips sat forgotten on her desk, its remaining contents spilling onto the wooden surface with nary a care. Her face was scrunched up in an expression of growing apprehension and the way she mirrored Sarada suggested even Chōchō realized this wasn’t normal.

The girl leaned towards her. “You sure you don’t know where he is?”

Sarada shook her head. “No, but if he doesn’t get here soon Hinata-ba-chan’s gonna kill him,” and even if he did, she’d probably still ground him into adulthood. Sarada knew very well how close Boruto’s family was to Shino. He’d be in for a world of trouble just for worrying them all like this.

“Hmm.” Chōchō’s cheeks puffed a bit, contemplative. A second went by and then a decisive nod. Quickly, before Sarada could stop her, Chōchō leaned back and hissed, “Inojin. _Psst_ , Inojin.”

The blond boy readily ignored her, his head bowing closer to his desk as if it would get him out of her line of fire. Sarada resisted the urge to shake her head. He should know better.

“Yo, pasty!”

“ _What_?” The boy exclaimed, only to be instantly silenced by the sound of Shino-sensei clearing his throat.

“Akimichi-kun, Yamanaka-kun, is there a problem?”

“No, sensei.”

“Sorry, sensei.”

Even with half his face obscured, it was apparent Shino-sensei didn’t believe them, but he let them go anyway in favor of continuing the roll call. Chōchō and Inojin exchanged glares.

A few moments passed of Chōchō muttering insults under her breath before Sarada took notice of a small black beetle scurrying across her desk. She would have screamed if Shino-sensei hadn’t desensitized her to insects years ago, but couldn’t hold back a violent shudder as it neared her paper.

“Hmm?” Chōchō raised a brow, having taken notice of Sarada’s reaction, and the girls watched, mystified, as the beetle slowly melted away onto the paper to reveal words.

**_What do you want, fatso?_ **

Chōchō scowled. “Rude,” she muttered under her breath, before hastily scribbling out her question under the ink. Much to their fascination, Inojin’s ink congealed around the message and reformed into a beetle. It hurried back along the wood, across the floor, and back towards Inojin.

The beetle disappeared onto the boy’s scroll and his forehead creased. He twirled his brush around in his fingers nervously and flashed them an indiscernible look. Seconds later, another beetle dissolved on Chōchō’s paper.

**_Don’t know. He never said anything to me. I thought he was here._ **

Boys: so unhelpful. Chōchō scoffed and balled the paper up in her hands. In a largely telegraphed move, she shifted around to make sure Shino-sensei wasn’t looking and swiftly lobbed it at Shikadai’s head. The boy’s fingers were tapping incessantly along his desk and he seemed poised to run should anyone so much as breathe wrong. Sarada held her breath as the ball made contact.

His reaction was instantaneous. Swiveling in his seat, a scowl blossomed across Shikadai’s face as his hand rubbed the back of his head. Chōchō rolled her eyes, but motioned with her head towards Boruto’s empty seat.

 _'You know where he is?’_ She asked with her eyes, and Sarada tried to ignore the way her chest twisted at his reaction. It wasn’t just his fingers shaking; it was his whole body.

If this was one of Boruto’s pranks, Sarada was going to kill him. He had to know this crossed a line.

By this point, the rest of their classmates had caught on to the exchange. Denki, who before had been able to write off the abnormality as Boruto being Boruto, now seemed ready to follow Shikadai’s lead and fret. Metaru was practically vibrating in his seat, nervous feet tapping against the floor as his eyes flashed between the door and Boruto’s chair. Even Iwabee had straightened out of his usual slump.

Beside them, Sumire oozed nervousness. She whipped her head around, violet braids almost whacking Chōchō in the face, and asked, “D-do you think Boruto-kun’s alright?”

Sarada tensed, but somehow managed to curl a smile. “Yeah. I’m sure he’s fine,” but it did nothing to convince Sumire and even Chōchō was unimpressed at her attempt.

“Uchiha Sarada.”

The call startled her and Sarada twitched at the unexpectedness of it. She looked around to see all eyes on her and her face bloomed with heat.

“S-sorry, sensei.”

But rather than get scolded like she’d expected, Shino tilted his head and said, “Sorry? There’s no need for sorry, Uchiha-kun. Why? Because I am still taking roll call.”

Normally, this would have elicited a smattering of giggles from her classmates, but today no such jeering came. It was a negligible consolation and Sarada awkwardly cleared her throat. “Oh, right. Here.”

Satisfied, Shino-sensei nodded and he checked off her name. “Yamanaka Inojin.”

The class stilled.

“Um, h-here,” he stuttered. The omission of Boruto’s name was glaring.

The classroom door reopened just as the clone was putting the call sheet back into the drawer, but it wasn’t Shino-sensei who walked through the door. Rather, the principal, Iruka-sensei, had taken his place. They exchanged a nod and before Iruka even reached the podium Shino’s clone had dissolved back into bugs and escaped through the doorway. Whispers broke out amongst the students; Sarada paid them no mind, too focused on their principal’s hand as it shook behind his back.

“Oi, Sarada-chan. What do you–”

“Open your history books to page 215,” Iruka-sensei interjected, throwing Chōchō and the rest of the class into silence. “We’ll be focusing on the mid-Warring Clans period today. Now who can tell me–”

“Iruka-sensei?” Denki’s hand waved about in time with his cry. “W-where’s Shino-sensei?”

The rest of the class murmured in agreement, pinning Iruka under sixteen curious gazes. Sarada was instantly thrown by the way his expression melted into something resembling impassive, so used to the warmth he usually exuded. “Hokage-sama has called Shino-sensei away. I have agreed to take his place. Now, turn your attention back your books. Paragraph three, everyone.”

A bewildered sort of stillness settled over the room as the lesson continued. Iruka-sensei’s voice wasn’t quite as droll as Shino’s, but not even he could make the Inuzuka-Mikeneko split interesting. In response, most of the students found their attentions wandering. More than a few eyes lingered towards Boruto’s empty seat and Sarada was ashamed to admit she only managed to take a handful of notes before she too was drawn to the vacancy.

 _What are you doing, dum-dum? If you made Shino-sensei track you down because you thought it’d be funny, you’ve got another thing coming._ Not that there would be much left of him once Hinata got a hold of him, but Sarada planned on chewing him out so badly he’d be deaf for a year.

Something sharp swatted her forearm. Her attention instantly shifted to the little piece of folded paper that now sat by her elbow and she flashed her eyes to Chōchō. The umber-toned girl prodded with her chin toward the paper, making it look like she was just stretching her neck. Sarada surreptitiously unfolded the note between her fingers.

**_Shikadai looks like he’s about to puke._ **

Indeed Shikadai did look like he was about to puke. His pencil trembled violently in his grasp, tapping against the paper in such a way that would have been annoying had anyone actually been paying attention. His face, what she could see of it, was paler even than Inojin and his roots had darkened with gathering sweat. If it had been allowed, Sarada would have no doubt he would have chosen to switch seats with Renga just so he could spend the rest of class gazing out the window for his missing friend.

Sarada reached over with her pencil and jotted down a quick, **_Yeah_** , unsure of what else she could say. Chōchō snorted softly beside her. A second of queasy silence passed between them before Chōchō’s hand was obscuring her meager notes and taking control over the top margin of her notebook.

**_Wonder what he knows._ **

_Nothing_ , Sarada thought. Shikadai knew absolutely nothing, which was no doubt why he was so freaked out, but she wasn’t sure how to convey that with such little space. Instead, under Chōchō’s message she wrote, **_No idea. Maybe he’s just sick._**

Chōchō hummed quietly and it was obvious to Sarada that she didn’t buy it in the least. Her friend may have a bit of a reputation as a featherhead, but that didn’t make it true. Besides which, she’d grown up with Shikadai much the same way Sarada had grown up with Boruto.

 ** _Maybe,_ **Chōchō wrote back. **_Think Inojin would tell us if we asked?_** And she used her pencil to point towards the tiny ink beetle scurrying down the steps towards Shikadai. Inojin’s nose was screwed up in concentration, seafoam gaze flinted with concern.

**_No, he’d probably–_ **

It’s funny how certain details stick with you in the seconds leading up to chaos. Sarada would forever be able to look back on this moment and remember the exact pallor of Shikadai’s skin and the warm tickle of Chōchō’s breath on her neck. She’d recall how the paper under her hand made her skin crawl in that same goose pimple sensation that came from licking envelopes, and how the rumbling in her stomach felt less like hunger and more like the uncomfortable gurgling of spoiled milk. Inojin would never again be anything other than seven in her mind even after he’d surpassed her in height, and, despite the fact that she’d completely tuned the lesson out, Sarada would always be able to pick out just the right moment in her history text when Iruka-sensei was interrupted.

**_Boom!_ **

The classroom shook. Students screamed as posters clattered to the floor and windowpanes rattled. Deafening bangs and crashes echoed above and beside the room as other classes joined the commotion. Some children burst into fits of hysterics – afraid the building might collapse – and more than a few tumbled right out of their seats into messy flailing piles. Sarada just managed to save herself with a firm grip to the edge of her desk, but Chōchō and Inojin were not so lucky. They found themselves quickly kissing the floor, blood beading along Inojin’s chin as it struck the stairs. Pitiful moans and cries filled the room, and it was in that final moment of bedlam that Shikadai lost the battle with his stomach.

The putrid stench of bile permeated throughout the class. It broke through the groans, silencing a couple as students used shaking hands to cup their noses. Sarada almost found herself following Shikadai’s example, managing to hold it back only through a combined effort of willpower and Chōchō’s vice-like hold on her wrist. Her vision blurred, glasses somewhere scattered along the floor, as dust floated up in front of her face. The blobby outline of Iruka-sensei – ostensibly the only one to maintain any semblance of composure – knelt by Shikadai’s side, maneuvering the Nara boy away from his mess and shushing his post-emetic cries.

“Students! Everyone! Form an orderly line out the door,” Iruka-sensei called. “Quickly, now! Quickly!”

There was a stampede as students hurried to carry out the order. A teeth-rattling screech sounded next to her and Sarada jolted, terrified another explosion was underway, only to find Chōchō hauling herself back to her feet. The other girl’s hair was in disarray with a bruise blossoming beautifully against her temple, and Sarada’s glasses stowed protectively in her hold. Sarada smiled gratefully as the lenses were pressed back into her hand, but was too shaken to make any sort of coherent thanks. A lump had formed in her throat ( _the glottis has swollen,_ her mother’s voice said. _It’s a natural bodily response to stress made uncomfortable by the need for swallowing)_ , and any attempt at speaking only came out as a damaged sort of squeak. She instead focused all her remaining energy on putting one foot in front of the other, forming small steps towards the door.

The swell of students wouldn’t have been what Iruka-sensei considered orderly, but the principal either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he ushered the group out into the hallway to join the gathering throng. Unfamiliar teachers and students huddled in groups, only aware of where to go from all those beginning-of-year drills. The older students lead at the front, a defensive barrier in the event of an attack, while the younger ones – those Sarada’s age – crowded about in the middle. Teachers followed along the sides as the children trooped down into the basement. From there, a series of trapdoors set in the floor divided the throng into more manageable numbers, an equal amount of older and younger students entering each one.

Sarada’s class followed behind another first-year class as they descended a narrow staircase into a series of concrete tunnels. On either side she could make out students from other classes climbing down through the neighboring doors, but they all veered off in different directions following their own assigned paths. A few hushed whispers echoed through the labyrinth, but most were too rattled to do more than shuffle along quietly after each other. Sarada knew exactly how they felt. Even with Chōchō at her back, she didn’t think she would have been able to utter a peep. Every few feet they passed through a checkpoint, only noticeable by the faint glow the seal gave off. Sarada wondered, briefly, what would happen if someone untoward were to pass through before deciding she didn’t want to know.

The narrow corridor branched out into various different openings. Intellectually, Sarada knew the entire maze was interconnected both to confuse an enemy and to offer viable exits in the event of a cave in, but whereas the drills made them seem exciting, now they only served to instill a sense of fear and suffocation. What if she turned down the wrong one? What if she got lost? Would she be stuck here forever? Would anyone know to come looking for her?

(Yes, yes they would. The teachers were bound to take another roll call and would surely come searching.)

But the fear persisted as she trailed after Sumire towards their assigned bunker. It took all her effort to keep her eyes on the graffiti lining the walls. The paint was made to look as if years of rebellious students had lent their art to the stone, but the reality was that each picture gave specific instructions depending on who was reading it. Sarada, and thus her classmates, were only concerned with the orange smiley-face that cropped up at every possible intersection. It directed them to their assigned safe-room.

After a few near-misses and far more twists and turns than she remembered, Sarada found herself scurrying through a narrow doorway into a dully-lit cavern filled with a mixed range of students from various years. They were all arranged into easy to recognize rows with the older students on the outside and the younger on the inside. Sarada hurried to her spot somewhere in the middle with the rest of her classmates, Chōchō trailing close behind. Pre-Academy, had they been in session today, would have been mixed in between them, but the empty spaces now only served to make the younger students feel even more isolated.

Sarada shivered violently. It was due less to the chill than the stillness hanging like a pendulum trap over the bunker. Even Chōchō kept her head down. Inojin stood to her left, an extra wide gap between them that Boruto should have filled, and they shared a look meant for a phantom. A sniffle ahead pulled Sarada’s attention towards Shikadai where they young Nara stood in the unseen shadow of his missing friend. The acrid scent of vomit still wafted off his form, made only more intolerable by the enclosed space. Sarada bit her lip in concern. Shikadai always had such control over himself. Was he that worried for Boruto or was he really just sick?

She couldn’t stop herself; she had to know.

“Shikadai,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “ _Psst_. Shikadai.”

But before the boy could speak, another teacher – one she didn’t recognized – passed through and silenced her.

“No talking,” he said. “This is not a drill and we cannot afford distractions. Understand?”

“Yes, sensei,” and she shut her mouth tightly despite the fact that she did not, in fact, understand.

Time dragged by. Teachers milled about, taking attendance and speaking in low tones, and every so often one would disappear through the doorway only to reappear minutes later with another adult or scroll for the principal. Iruka’s face pinched each time, and more often than not he would send them back in whichever direction they came from.

Students began to quiver in their rows, more now from cold than any residual fear. The anxiety that had permeated the cavern on the way down fizzled away to boredom once it became apparent nothing else was going to happen. Underclassmen began whispering back and forth, all quickly silenced though it was never enough to quell the flow completely, while the older students fidgeted – too disciplined by now to know how to behave, but still innocent enough to feel safe in letting their attentions wander. Sarada did not participate. She’d already been yelled at and was not so curious as to incur further reprimand. Her class too remained quiet, ignorant of the murmurs and lacking the necessary enthusiasm to participate.

Shino-sensei had not returned and Boruto was nowhere to be found.

“Attention!” Iruka-sensei’s voice echoed after an hour. The afterimage of an ANBU disappeared behind him, and all whispers immediately ceased as students and teachers alike directed their focus to the front. “All students are to return to their classrooms and collect their belongings. Parents have been notified and will be coming to collect you. You will not be allowed off the grounds unless accompanied by a parent or guardian. Classes will resume normal time Monday as authorized under the directive of the Hokage. Dismissed!”

Mumbles and murmurings echoed out from the crowd, but they were few and quickly dispersed under the disquiet of their contemporaries. Teachers rounded up their classes and lead them back into the tunnels one-by-one, while Iruka-sensei directed from the foreground. Sarada distantly wondered what that would mean for her class, but needn’t have worried. All the younger classes were marched out last, and so were guarded by Iruka-sensei at the rear.

Emerging back into the basement was a much calmer affair than before. Though tension still hung in the air, it lacked the panic of earlier. There didn’t appear to be any further damage to the building itself, but it was hard to tell when the hallways were so full of students shuffling back to their rooms. The only thing Sarada noticed were the shattered windows. Thick black smoke wafted in through the cracks and a group of Inuzuka upperclassmen hurried past, faces scrunched and pallid with the onset of nausea. Sarada could only guess at what they smelled on the wind, each one more ghastly than the last, but not for a second did she find herself really wanting to know. There was a strange tang to the air that was enough to curb her curiosity.

More students joined the crowd and they jostled and bumped each other out of their regimented lines, packed liked sardines in the confined space. Both upper and lower classmen clung arm-in-arm with their friends as if doing so made them impervious to harm. It was an absurd assumption, but one Sarada found herself falling prey to. They grouped together – her, Chōchō and Inojin – as they marched towards the upper floors. Their class had converged into a strange sort of blob and it wasn’t until she was literally tripping over Shikadai that she realized how close they’d moved.

The boy looked awful. Acid chapped lips, pale and wrinkled like an elderly man’s, stood out prominently against his face, and his skin stretched across his bones like a stocking along wire frames. A dark stain trailed down his shirt, faint sour whiffs making their way up Sarada’s nose and stinging her eyes. He was shaking, even in the manufactured warmth of the Academy.

Enough was enough. Sarada reached out and grasped hold of his shoulder, pulling him back towards the group so that he’d have nowhere to escape and yet still feel safe amongst friends. The boy startled, glassy teal eyes round in his head. He looked like a child – younger than Himawari – and Sarada was forced to quell the unease of guilt that blossomed in the pit of her stomach.

“Shikadai,” she murmured, softer than intended. “What happened?” _To you? To Boruto? The village?_ Perhaps it was silly of her to think he’d know, but he was too smart – and too frightened – not to have an idea.

The boy’s mouth formed a small ‘o’. “I shouldn’t have left,” was all he said, much to the confusion of his friends.

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have left,” he repeated. “I should have waited.”

“Waited?” Sarada exchanged bemused looks with the others. “Waited for what?”

“ _Boruto_ ,” hissed Shikadai, expression awash with self-flagellation. “I should have waited for him.”

 _Oh_. Goosepimples prickled her flesh, and Sarada stamped down the growing dread.

“He’s not your responsibility, Shika,” Inojin cast to Shikadai’s disagreement.

“Yes he is. Hinata-ba-chan asked–”

“To take care of him, we know,” Sarada finished. They all knew how much Boruto’s mom worried about him, but Shikadai seemed to have taken her request and twisted it into some sort of self-appointed mission. “But you’re not his bodyguard, Shikadai. He’s a big boy. He can take of himself.” Except it was becoming increasingly apparent that wasn’t the case.

_He’s only seven. We’re only seven. We can’t even hit all the targets with our kunai, yet._

“He’s probably just goofing off,” Chōchō reasoned, fingers grasping for chips that weren’t there. “So whatever trouble he’s in isn’t your problem.”

“The explosion–”

She waved him off. “Do you see all that smoke? It’s way off in the forest. No way could Boruto have made it that far.”

 _On his own_ , Sarada wanted to say, but swallowed it back, not wanting to think about it. “Chōchō’s right. Shino-sensei probably found him and brought him to Hokage-sama. The explosion was just a bad coincidence.” Even though shinobi were taught to never believe in coincidences.

Shikadai was not reassured. He shook his head, eyes downcast. “He got a pastry. He always gets one and I always wait. I didn’t wait today. If something happened to him, it’s on me.”

If something had happened to Boruto – and Sarada wasn’t saying it had – then it most assuredly was _not_ on Shikadai, but the boy, of the belief the conversation was over, had already wandered away, back to the front of the throng where they were just beginning to pile into their classroom.

It was suspicious; she’d give him that. _Boruto probably got huffy and ran off_ , her inner voice said. _Or he’s taking advantage of not having a minder._ But Boruto wouldn’t do that. To her maybe, but not Shikadai. They were best friends.

The classroom was still in disarray as they entered, but the mess wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d thought it’d been. Either someone had cleaned up, or fear had colored her perception. A few scrolls sat strewn on the floor along with a couple wall hangings, but aside from a small smattering of debris, nothing else was out of place.

To think, they’d thought the Academy was collapsing.

Her classmates were mute as they set about collecting their belongings. Maybe they were too afraid to ask or maybe Iruka-sensei’s reluctance was really that apparent, Sarada didn’t know, but for the longest time the only sounds in the room were the shuffling of books and the zing of zippers. Iruka-sensei wrote the homework on the board ( _read chapters five and six in the history text and do math questions twelve through thirty_ ), though it was debatable how many of them actually noticed enough to jot it down.

Sarada didn’t think Shino-sensei would care anyway.

Iruka-sensei placed the chalk down with a resounding _clack_. All eyes zeroed in on him, but he did not turn around. He stood, his back to them, as he breathed.

A chill went down Sarada’s spine, as if she were walking through the old Uchiha compound under the stares of the dead. Beside her, Chōchō was about ready to start hyperventilating. The room was suffocating.

“I am going to take roll call,” the man finally said. A few students flinched at the sudden noise, deafening as it was amongst the silence. “Please announce yourself once I call your name.”

Slowly – so slowly it was painful – Iruka-sensei drew out the attendance sheet for the third time that morning and called out a name.

“Akimichi Chōchō.”

“Here.”

Names filed past. The clock ticked by. Chōchō fiddled with the chip bag still left on her desk, but didn’t make a move to eat, and Sumire fiddled with the end of one of her braids as she trembled in her seat. Inojin twirled his brush around his fingers – spinning it between them and then over the back of his hand and between them again – while Metaru performed some sort of strange active meditation in his seat. He looked about five seconds away from balancing on his head. Someone – Sarada thought it might have been Denki – had, at one point, gone and cleaned up Shikadai’s vomit, though it wouldn’t do much good if Shikadai got sick again. The smell still remained.

More time passed. Iruka-sensei continued the roll call.

“Uchiha Sarada.”

“Here.” It came out as half a breath, but no one seemed to notice.

The second between her name and Inojin’s might have been the longest they ever experienced.

It didn’t matter. Nothing changed. Everyone was there. Everyone except Boruto.

Iruka-sensei put the attendance sheet away, and remained standing. He ignored the teacher’s seat entirely, more comfortable, it seemed, with staying at attention. For what, Sarada couldn’t fathom. No one dared to ask. Black smoke brushed against the windows.

There was a knock at the door – heavy and authoritative – that rattled the wood and sent heads swiveling. They watched, a captive audience to this theatre of military protocol as Iruka-sensei ran a blood-threaded finger across the door handle. It flashed green – an almost unnoticeable measure that the students never would have caught had they not been so riveted – and Iruka-sensei’s shoulders relaxed. He pulled the door open just wide enough for his arm to stick through but not enough for the children to see who was there, and handed a paper out to the visitor. Whatever it was, it was enough for the principal to admit the person into the room. He locked the door immediately after.

Chōchō jolted in her seat, eyes wide and chip bag clenched so tightly it crackled. Her father, Chōji, stood large and unusually imposing in the doorway. Sarada had never seen the man as anything other than jovial, but here he was looking ready to kill. Sarada swallowed back bile.

Her friend hesitantly pulled herself from her chair, all too aware of the scrutiny of their classmates. “Bye, Sarada,” she murmured half-heartedly, her attention focused more on her dad than the Uchiha.

“Bye, Chōchō,” Sarada mumbled. She too couldn’t keep her eyes off Chōji.

Chōchō hurriedly made her way down the steps, the center of attention. Under normal circumstances, the girl would have reveled in it, but today it was enough to make her shrink.

Chōji took his daughter’s hand in his own – something Sarada knew Chōchō hadn’t allowed since she’d started the Academy and deemed herself ‘too old’. He exchanged a few terse words with Iruka, too low for them to hear. Whatever it was, Iruka-sensei hadn’t liked it. His already pasty complexion paled further and Sarada swore his gaze flashed to Boruto’s seat, but it was too fast for her to be sure. If it did, it didn’t linger. Chōji and Chōchō left quickly after that.

Nara Temari showed up five minutes later. It was weird to see her with a battle fan on her back, but not as weird as the way Shikadai went so completely still. His green eyes shimmered and if Sarada didn’t know better she’d say he was either about to burst into tears or pass out. Perhaps he still would; Shikadai had been strange all day.

Temari surveyed the room, searching for some threat only she was aware of. The air grew heavy around her, a pressure Sarada got the impression she was just barely suppressing, and the little girl found she didn’t like the way Temari and Iruka exchanged glances. Everyone seemed to be doing a lot of that today.

“Shikadai, we’re going home. Now.” Her jade gaze, flinty and unyielding, switched to Inojin. “Inojin, you too.”

“Nara-sama, I can’t–” Iruka started, but was cut off by the scroll Temari sent sailing towards his face.

“Inojin too.”

Whatever was written on that scroll must have been important because Iruka blanched and hastily ushered Inojin forward. Sarada couldn’t blame the boy for the sudden trepidation that made itself at home on his face. If she recalled correctly, Nara-sama was Inojin’s emergency contact, to use only when his parents could not be reached. Either they were both out on missions – which Sarada knew they weren’t because her mother was supposed to have lunch with Ino today – or whatever happened required both the Jounin Commander and the Head of Torture and Interrogation. Or an extra medic. Inojin, who had held himself together so well, finally began to shake.

“Mom,” Shikadai trembled. “What–”

“ _Now_.”

Shikadai shut up. He and Inojin hastily gathered their things and clamored down the stairs. With a protective hand on each of the boys’ shoulders, Temari swept them from the room, barely a nod given to Iruka.

Parents arrived in waves after that. Denki’s father picked him up personally, and _two_ of the orphanage’s caretakers arrived for Sumire. Sarada almost didn’t believe it when Rock Lee came for Metaru without uttering a single “youth,” and Iwabee’s mother – a former Iwa kunoichi – showed up in full battle gear.

The class continued to empty and within minutes Sarada was the only one left. She expected her mother to have shown up by now, but the queasy inkling in her stomach – the one that’d been there since realizing Aunt Ino wasn’t home – told her differently. It was far more likely that Aunt Hinata would show up for her; she always did when Mama wasn’t available. But Hinata did not appear, and Iruka-sensei was already packing up his bag.

 _Wait, he’s not going to leave me here, is he?_ No, that wouldn’t make sense. Not if every student had to be escorted by their parents off the grounds.

“Sarada-chan,” Iruka-sensei finally said, once his bag was packed. He still looked unimaginably tired, but his face had gentled into something attempting a smile. It didn’t feel very real, but the effort was nice. He waved Nara-sama’s scroll in his hand. “I’m going to escort you to Aburame-sensei. He’ll be watching you until your mother is free.”

 _What_? Sarada blanched. Shino-sensei was going to watch her? That wasn’t… _huh_?

Her confusion must have shown on her face because Iruka-sensei was quick to say, “Hokage-sama has decided it was for the best. He has your mother working on something important, and he and his wife are unavailable, so it was decided it was best you stay with Shino-sensei.”

Okay, ignoring the fact that that made literally no sense, Sarada knew for a fact that she was supposed to stay with Iruka-sensei and Kakashi-sama if ever the event arose that neither her mother nor the Uzumaki were available. If anything she should be going home with him.

But Iruka-sensei’s eyes were crinkled just a little too tightly and Sarada decided now was not the time to push her luck. If Nara-sama’s scroll told her to go with Shino-sensei then that’s what she would do. It was no doubt Hokage-sama’s direct orders. So, with only slight hesitation, Sarada gathered her belongings and ambled down the steps towards Iruka. He took her hand in his, an action that on any other day would have embarrassed Sarada to no end, and, with his scar still stretched by a smile, led her out of the Academy.

If there was one thing Sarada noticed about their trip it was how tense the village was. There were an inordinate number of shinobi about. They flickered across the rooftops in teams of three or more, eyes hawk-like as they searched about for some unseen threat. Civilians traveled in groups, making purchases quickly where they might have otherwise stopped to chat, and they all walked with their heads half-turned as if waiting for something to appear over their shoulders.

Once, just once, Sarada felt courageous enough to ask, “Iruka-sensei, what happened?”

“Not here, Sarada-chan,” the teacher warned, eyes alert to the road ahead. “Wait until you get home.” Sarada wanted to fight him, ask him why he wouldn’t answer her when it was so obvious something was wrong, but she didn’t. Instinct told her to wait for her mama.

Instead, Sarada pulled herself closer to the principal in an attempt at imagined safety. She didn’t know what was going on, but the air smelled of soot and burnt copper, and the longer they stayed outside the more her senses burned. She wanted to go home.

It took twenty minutes to reach the Aburame compound from the Academy, but by time they arrived it was a wonder Iruka could still feel his hand Sarada had been clutching it so hard. The compound was beautiful, awash with flowers even this late into the year, with high-domed rooftops and greenhouses filled to the brim with fluttering insects. There were few members out and about, none of who were younger than fifteen, but it wasn’t until Iruka-sensei was knocking on the door of the largest building that Sarada caught a glimpse of their shadows.

ANBU. There were ANBU on the rooftops, watching Shino-sensei’s house. Her breath caught in her throat.

Of all the places in the village, why were there ANBU here?

“Sara-nee-chan!”

 _Himawari_. Sarada took in a deep, shuddering breath and braced herself as the little girl plowed into her side. Her arms automatically wrapped around the five-year-old, but her mind was a mile away.

Himawari was here. Himawari was here with the ANBU. The ANBU were here for Himawari.

_“Hokage-sama decided it was for the best.”_

Sarada’s dark eyes rounded behind her glasses. _No_. The ANBU were here for her _and_ Himawari.

Before the idea had time to take root, Himawari had already dislodged herself from Sarada and launched into Iruka-sensei’s arms with a loud cry of, “Ruka-jiji!”

Iruka let out a loud guffaw as he pulled the girl up into his arms and spun her around, much to Himawari’s delight. She let out a loud shriek, her arms locked around his neck. It reminded Sarada of her own time under Iruka’s care before she entered the Academy, though even then he’d never been so unrestrained.

Idly, she wondered if he was like that with Boruto once, too.

“Iruka-san!” A bright, cheery voice that didn’t match any Aburame Sarada knew called from the foyer. “I see you’ve brought Sarada-chan.”

“Aburame-san,” Iruka greeted.

“Bah! How many times do I have to tell you to call me Sanko?”

Iruka-sensei laughed. “My apologies, Sanko-san.”

“Your apologies, huh? I guess I’ll believe you; right up until next time I have to remind you, at least.” She flashed him a smile full of teasing pearly whites before reaching out her arm for the girls. “Welcome to the Aburame Hive, Sarada-chan. Don’t worry, we don’t bite until after lunch, so you’re safe until then, right Himawari-chan?”

“Right!”

“That’s my girl. Now, I’ve prepared some snacks so how ‘bout we let Iruka-sensei get back to his work, hm? We all know how bereft he gets when he’s away from the Academy for too long.”

“I do not, Sanko-san.”

“That’s not what my husband tells me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Oh really?” She tossed her head back towards the interior. “Shino! What happens when Iruka-sensei spends too long outside the Academy?”

A faint buzzing was the only reply she got, but it was enough to send the teal-haired woman into hysterics. Sarada stared, perplexed. It took a minute to sink in that this strangely upbeat woman was Shino-sensei’s wife, but with that came a whole slew of questions that were enough to completely overshadow all the other oddness of the day. Shino-sensei was married? Like, actually married? To a person? How could she not have known this? Did everyone else know? Was she honestly the last to find out? Did Chōchō know, or was she finally the first one in on a piece of gossip?

Himawari tugged at the hem of the woman’s apron. “Sanko-oba-chan?”

“Hm? Yes, Hima-chan?”

“I know what happens when Ruka-jiji stays away too long. Boru-nii told me.”

Something indescribable flashed across the woman’s face at the mention of Boruto, but she covered it quickly with a wild smile. “Oh? And what did your brother tell you?”

“He im’lodes!”

“Hah! Did you hear that, Iruka-sensei? Too long outside the Academy and you’ll implode.”

Iruka was decidedly unimpressed. “Yes, I think I did hear something like that.”

“From Kakashi?” Sanko asked, eyes a twinkle.

“He certainly didn’t deny it.”

“Well, of course he didn’t; it’s true! But at the risk of cleaning Iruka-sensei soup off the front porch, it’s probably best to let you go. Can’t have you imploding on our watch; Rokudaime-sama would pout.” She winked a bright orange eye in the girls’ direction and ushered them inside. “Say goodbye, girls! Iruka-sensei’s got a lot to do today.”

“Bye, ‘Ruka-jiji!”

“Goodbye, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka’s eyes crinkled. “Goodbye, Hima-chan, Sarada-chan. Be good for Aburame-san.”

“Kay!”

“We will, Iruka-sensei.”

“Oi, what did I say about my name, Iruka-san?” But the teacher had already vanished before Sanko could continue and she heaved a sigh. “That man. I swear he does it on purpose.” She shook her head, but her smile had softened and she waved in the direction of the back door. “Now, fun as I am, I know you girls don’t want to spend all your time with boring old me. If I’m not mistaken, Shiro should still in the greenhouse, if you’d like to join him.”

_Shiro?_

Shiro, as it turned out, was Shino-sensei’s son. He was around Himawari’s age – perhaps a little younger – with his mother’s disposition and his father’s looks. He’d just been given his first hive and had a difficult time in reining the kikaichū in. It became readily apparent that Shino-sensei suffered under his wife and son’s boisterousness, and no matter how much he tried to temper his son’s tendencies it wasn’t going to work. Everyone was just going to have to live with the little boy’s bugs buzzing around until he was old enough to get a better grasp on his emotions, something that, with his energy levels, was bound to take years.

The teacher stuck close to the children as they puttered about the adjacent greenhouse. Kikaichū of all types buzzed about the room, so many that Shiro’s lack of control was negligible and Sarada kept a running tally of all the flowers and fruit trees she encountered. The Aburame greenhouses were abundant enough to rival the Yamanaka gardens, and a part of her wondered if the Yamanaka had some sort of deal with the bug clan before deciding they must. There simply wasn’t any other way for the Yamanaka to have enough supplies otherwise.

Sanko joined them sporadically. She came in every so often with a tray full of sweets and enough funny stories about Shino that Sarada was quite sure she’d never be able to look her teacher in the eye ever again. Aunt Hinata was too polite to ever tell stories other than the ones that put her old teammates in a heroic light, and Sarada didn’t know Kiba well enough to get any good ones out of him. It was unlikely she’d ever see this side of Shino-sensei again and Sarada was determined to soak up every word. But despite the teasing, it was obvious that the two were head-over-heels for each other. They were always touching, small little grazes against arms and knuckles and fingers, and Sarada could have made a game out of the number of times Sanko snuck up on her husband only to lay a quick kiss on his cheek.

Somewhere, in the depths of her subconscious, she wondered if her parents were ever like that.

Hours passed. The brilliance of Shino’s home was almost enough to quell Sarada’s trepidation and fears, but every so often she would catch a glimpse of one of the ANBU. It would instantly bring everything back – up to and including the nausea – and it would take Shino-sensei’s hand on her shoulder and a new distraction to fully calm her again. The younger children were lucky in that regard. Himawari and Shiro rushed about with all the abandon of childhood naivety, though once or twice Sarada caught Himawari’s blue eyes gazing distantly out the window, as if sheer force of will could make her family reappear. Sarada knew the feeling well and was quick to channel the girl’s attention back towards the flowers or the fruit or whatever it was she’d been so engrossed it prior.

By the end of the day, Sarada had managed to settle her fear down into a small flare under her ribcage. The danger felt distant now, as if the morning hadn’t actually happened, and the longer Sarada stayed within the warm bubble of the Aburame compound the deeper she fell into the illusion. It was nice, to not feel the unsettling terror that permeated the world outside. For a short time, Sarada’s mind wasn’t plagued with fear or questions, and it probably would have continued like that if not for Himawari.

Whatever had happened while Sarada was at school haunted the little girl. As the day grew darker, Himawari became more and more morose. Her eyes flittered back and forth to the door as if she could will her parents into being, and she refused to part with her stuffed panda bear even after Sarada said it might get damaged by their kunai training. Shiro’s accidents stopped making her giggle and, once the sun went down, even Sanko’s stories weren’t enough to raise a smile.

“Are you okay, Hima-chan?” Sarada asked once they had a moment to themselves. Shiro was in the next room helping his mother with dinner and the girls were washing up in the bathroom.

Himawari didn’t answer at first, biting her little lip nervously. Sarada waited patiently as she fumbled for something to say. When the child finally spoke, it was barely a whisper. “Mama was crying.”

Sarada’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Mama was crying,” Hima rasped, blue eyes wet and quivering. “She was crying and daddy was angry. He was really, really angry. No one will tell me anything and–and I can’t find _Boru-nii_ ,” she broke off with a wail.

Sarada immediately fell to the floor and pulled the girl into a hug. She stroked Himawari’s hair, doing her best to sooth away the tears. The stuffed bear made it a little awkward, but it was all Sarada could offer when her own throat was so clogged she couldn’t even find her voice.

_You idiot, what did you do?_

The explosion. It had to be the explosion. This was so much more than one missed class. This was…she didn’t even know what this was.

_“If something happened to him, it’s on me.”_

Shikadai’s ominous condemnation echoed in her mind. He’d been so pale, so terrified, so ready to think the worst. But it wasn’t possible! Not in Konoha. They were safe. They were safe, they were safe, they were safe!

**_Shikadai’s a genius._ **

_He doesn’t know everything._

**_He knows more than you. He knew Boruto was stopping at the bakery. He knew Boruto was supposed to be right behind him. He knew Boruto would never skip class._ **

_He’s not omniscient._

**_He uses his head. There are ANBU outside these walls, and they’re not just for Himawari._ **

_But we’re safe._

**_Are we?_ **

The familiar taste of bile tingled her tongue, burning her throat as every possible scenario rushed though her head. Was she safe? Were her friends? Was Boruto really hurt? How badly? Was he in that explosion? There was no way he could have gotten so far out into the forest without help, but Boruto was just the special type of troublemaker to manage it.

_Please don’t be mixed up in this, dum-dum._

But there was no denying he was. They’d done roll call _three times_. Inojin had gone home with the Nara. There were _ANBU_ guarding Himawari, ANBU that weren’t even making an attempt at subtlety. _Shino-sensei_ was watching her – not her mother, and not the Uzumaki. Whatever situation Boruto had gotten himself mixed up in was enough to require the Head Medic, the Head of Torture and Interrogation, the Jounin Commander, and the Hokage.

_Please be okay, idiot. Please be okay._

She pulled Himawari closer.

Boruto was her best friend. Not in the same way he was with Shikadai or she was with Chōchō, but that didn’t make it any less true. They’d grown up together, even shared a crib at one point in their lives. He knew everything about her. As much as he annoyed her, she still loved him and the thought of something happening to him didn’t even bear thinking about.

Shino rushed in through the doorway, alerted by Himawari’s cries. The child didn’t notice, but Sarada squinted up at her teacher with a mixture of panic and relief. Shino-sensei would know what to do. He always knew what to do.

“Sarada-chan,” Shino began, shuffling further into the washroom. “What happened?”

“She, um…” She idly adjusted her glasses. What was she supposed to say?

Himawari solved the problem with her next sob. “I want Boru-nii!”

Shino tensed, sending Sarada’s heart plummeting into her stomach. Shino-sensei was an Aburame; demonstrative was not a word generally associated with them. It didn’t last long, thank the gods, as the man was quick to hide whatever tension he felt, but the fact that it happened at all was enough. Something happened to Boruto. Something very bad, and Sarada was about one second away from vomiting. She forced herself to focus on her teacher in an effort to stave off the nausea, but was afraid it just made everything worse.

Shino-sensei crouched down on the floor next to the girls and sat there as calmly as his clan was famous for. His head bowed forward in an effort to attract Himawari’s attention.

“Himawari-chan, Boruto-kun is not here right now.”

“I want Boru-nii!” She wailed again like he hadn’t even spoken.

“Boruto-kun is with your parents. They will come get you as soon as they can.”

Himawari sniffled and removed her face from Sarada’s shoulder. The cloth was cold and wet against the older girl’s skin, a sensation she dully ignored in favor of keeping Himawari calm. The little girl peered up at her uncle with red-rimmed eyes. “I wanna go home _now_. I want mama and daddy and Boru-nii.”

Shino sighed in resignation, and reached out his arms to take the girl into his own. Sarada eased the transfer, standing Himawari somewhere between them with Shino’s hands clasped under her armpits. “I know you desire to go home, Himawari-chan, however that option is not available. Boruto-kun and your parents are not there. It is a difficult situation.”

“But I want them!” She stomped her little foot on the ground. “I want them right now!” And she was crying again, swinging her arms and legs this way and that, a few even striking true. Her poor bear was going to loose all its stuffing at this rate.

The Aburame didn’t fight her. Sarada stared as he rode out the frenzy, lifting the flailing girl into his arms. His whole body was relaxed and gentle as he slowly began to rock her back and forth. Sarada had never seen her teacher so nurturing.

She hoped it helped Himawari because it did absolutely nothing for her. He wouldn’t even explain where Boruto was. Shino-sensei always expounded on his explanations. It’s what made him such a great teacher. Sarada twiddled anxiously with her glasses and forced herself to ignore the caustic scent building in the back of her nose.

“Shino-sensei?” She chanced.

The man didn’t speak. He just lifted one finger behind Himawari’s back in the universal sign for patience. Sarada could only nod and held in her question, though she never got the chance to ask it. Not a minute after Shino took Himawari into his arms, the doorbell rang.

Shino’s kikaichū surged out from under his sleeves in a great rush that forced Sarada back onto her butt in surprise.

“Sh-Shino-sensei!”

It was violent, so much so that she became paralyzed by the swarm. A small collection of insects flew out the bathroom door while the rest remained, flocking around the trio in a defensive bubble. Shino sat still, clutching Himawari just a tad closer, while Sarada lay frozen on the floor waiting for him to tell her it was safe to move.

Thankfully, the bugs returned quickly, humming all the while, and Shino relaxed. Whoever was at the door wasn’t a threat.

He roved covered eyes to her. “Sarada-chan, your mother has arrived to take you home.”

“But Himawari–”

“Is perfectly safe. Your mother has had a long day and I am sure she wishes to see you.”

Sarada barely had the presence of mind to agree, her eyes flickering to glimpse at Himawari’s still trembling form and then up again at Shino – protective, terrifying Shino. It suddenly wasn’t so hard to imagine him during the war. Gods, why had he settled on being an Academy teacher? He could have easily joined ANBU.

“Sarada. You shouldn’t keep your mother waiting.”

Her mother? What–? Sarada’s dark eyes rounded. Oh gods, mama! “R-right!”

She scurried up from the floor, all other thoughts pushed to the back of her mind as it finally registered that her mama was here. Really, truly here. In her haste, Sarada abandoned all her lessons on proper decorum and rushed pell-mell towards the front entrance. She just barely missed crashing into Sanko, but was too focused on reaching her mother to care.

Sakura stood in the doorway obviously tired and careworn. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair sweaty and mused, and her skin pale from exhaustion. The expression on her face was subdued, but she still managed to smile the instant Sarada came into her line of sight. Sarada smiled back happily, jumping into her mother’s arms and embracing her with all the strength she could muster. Sakura held her just as fiercely.

In that instant, Sarada was quite sure there was nothing better than her mother’s hugs.

“I missed you,” Sakura murmured into her ear, tilting her head and kissing her daughter’s hair.

“I missed you too, mama,” she replied. Her eyes squeezed shut and she reveled in the sensation of her mother against her. She was so warm.

Sarada pulled back after a minute, not because she wanted to, but because she could feel the way her mother’s tired limbs flagged against her back. The young girl’s mouth twisted in concern, and she moved her hands up to cup her mother’s cheeks. Her eyebrows knitted together and her glasses slipped. “Mama?”

Sakura smiled. “I’m okay, honey.” But she didn’t sound okay. In fact, she sounded distinctly haggard. Sarada would have voiced her concern right there if Sanko hadn’t chosen that moment to clear her throat.

Sarada didn’t know why, but she swore her mother flinched, if just for a second.

“Sanko-san,” her mother said, eyes weary. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

The teal-haired woman waved the apology away. “No, no. I get it. I just thought you’d want this. It’s been a long night and you shouldn’t have to worry about cooking.” She held a carefully wrapped container up to them, the packaging not enough to stop the delicious scent from wafting through. Belatedly, Sarada realized it was the very dinner she and Shiro had been so busy preparing. Strange, the wrapping looked familiar.

“Oh, no. We can’t take your dinner from you,” her mother argued, even though she had to know it was moot. One day of knowing the woman and Sarada could already tell her mama wasn’t going to win this argument. The Taki kunoichi was the closest thing to a mother bear since Chōchō’s grandmother.

As expected, Sanko waved the argument away. “Nonsense! It’s late, you’re tired, and I have enough food to feed Konoha. If you don’t take it, it’ll just go to waste.”

Her mother heaved an exasperated sigh. “Sanko…”

“Sakura.”

“You’re not going to let this go are you?”

“What do you think?”

“No.”

“Then why bother arguing when you already know the outcome, hm?”

Slowly, her mother’s lips twitched, a shallow hinting of a smile, and she graciously took the package into her free hand. “I had to try.”

“Course you did.”

“You’re not forcing food on them again, are you?” Shino questioned, gaining their attention. Himawari had calmed down and now appeared to be teetering on the edge of sleep, her head nestled into the crook of her uncle’s neck and bear tucked securely into her side. Little Shiro poked his head out curiously from behind Shino’s leg.

His wife barked. “Ha! Forcing? Nothing forceful about it. Better it fill someone’s stomach than our garbage, after all.”

For some reason, Sarada got the distinct impression her teacher was rolling his eyes. An old argument then, and one her mother was accustomed too. She narrowed her eyes. How…?

_Oh!_

That’s why the packaging looked so familiar. Her mother often came home late with similar bento teeming with food for them both. She always said they were from one of her colleagues.

“Are you a doctor?” The seven-year-old asked before she could stop herself.

Luckily, Sanko took the inquiry with good humor. Either she realized where Sarada’s mind had gone, or she was just that accustomed to random questions. “A doctor? Nah. I’m a nurse, honey. But I’ve been working with your mother ever since the war ended. She’d probably have starved without me.”

“I would not,” but Sakura wouldn’t look at them.

Sanko just winked. “She’s lying. She totally would’ve.” But then a look of contemplation stretched across her face and she tapped her chin. “Which does remind me, I should probably wrap up some leftovers for Ino and Hinata. Hokage-sama and Nara-sama, too. Oh and…” she continued to tally off names under her breath. Without even bothering to say goodbye, she plucked Himawari out of Shino’s arms and commandeered Shiro for her crusade to feed the top brass of Konoha. It would have been funny if Sarada weren’t so bewildered.

“We need to eat too,” Shino called back to her, deadpanned, but she was already out of view and it seemed to be out of habit anyway.

Her mother chuckled. “You might want to hurry or she’ll really give everything away.”

Shino shrugged. “There’s always take-out.”

“Well thank her for me, would you? She really didn’t have to.”

Shino bowed his head. “I will, though for your health and mine I will leave out your second statement. Why? Because she would not listen anyway.”

“Of course she wouldn’t. She never does. But,” and she hoisted the bento up an inch, “I am grateful. It would have been take-out otherwise.”

“Never the better option,” Shino agreed.

“No.” Her face gentled. “But thank you, Shino. For today. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t–”

Shino halted her with a raised hand. “It was my pleasure, Sakura-san. Sarada-chan was very helpful. Why? Because she was able to help me care for Himawari-chan.”

“Really?” Sakura peered down at her daughter with a prideful gleam that rosy-ed Sarada’s cheeks. “I’m glad she was of help. Now if only she was so good at home.”

“Mama!”

Sakura laughed; a light, tinkling sound that made the girl flush. “I’m just teasing, honey.” She shifted, her arm wrapping around the little girl. “But we should probably let you go. Wait too long and Sanko will give away your whole dinner.”

“It would not be the first time,” Shino admitted blithely. “As it were, I’d be much more concerned of yours going cold. Have a good night, Sakura-san, Sarada-chan.”

“Goodnight, Shino-san. Thank you again!”

“Thank you, Shino-sensei,” Sarada echoed. “Will you tell Shiro and Himawari I said goodbye?”

“Of course.”

Sarada flashed him a grin and quickly moved to grab her coat and schoolbag. Once her jacket fit snuggly, Sarada and her mother left Shino to his family and made their way out of the Aburame compound.

There was no leisurely night walk as they might have usually done. No, tonight her mother leapt up over rooftops in an unusual hurry, carrying Sarada to their house in silence. It was strange to see the village so still and empty, the only people visible being active duty shinobi. They were stopped just once, and the guard quickly let them go once mama confirmed her identity. Sarada found it downright bizarre.

They arrived home not long after and Sakura made a show of checking the house before she even thought of putting Sarada down. Once satisfied they were alone, Sakura locked all the doors and windows, and even went so far as to activate the perimeter seals. Considering the fact that doing so wouldn’t deter any determined assailant, Sarada concluded it was only to give her mother some peace of mind.

The two didn’t talk much the next few hours. They ate Sanko’s dish in silence, and watched a movie neither was particularly interested in but which filled the house with enough noise so as to not be awkward. Sarada desperately wanted to ask her mother about Boruto, but every time she tried the words got stuck in her throat. So she kept quiet, eyes flickering every once in a while to catch her mother’s far-off gaze.

 _What are you seeing, mama?_ But she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

It wasn’t until her mother was tucking her into bed that Sarada finally gathered the courage to ask her question. There were many ways she could have phrased it:

_What happened?_

_Why are you so tired?_

_What exploded?_

_Why is everyone so scared?_

But the one that actually made it out was, “Mama, where’s Boruto?”

Sakura froze, her fingers stilling along the sheets. Her forehead wrinkled in such a way that the diamond was almost completely obscured and her hands trembled against the bed. Guilt instantly welled up in Sarada’s stomach and she looked away.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Sarada,” her mother interrupted. The girl whirled her head back instinctually. Sakura lowered herself onto the edge of the bed and searched her daughter’s face. Whatever she found, it made her sigh. “I should have expected you’d ask. We weren’t very good at hiding it, were we?”

The girl shook her head vigorously. “No, no! It’s just that, well, Himawari was crying and he wasn’t in school today and there was an explosion and Iruka-sensei made us leave and we weren’t allowed to watch TV and everyone’s acting really weird and-”

“Sarada, Sarada!” Sakura shushed her, her face relaxing into an understanding smile. “Breathe, honey. I get it. I guess it was pretty obvious. You’re not babies anymore, after all. It’s a bit more difficult to hide things.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide things.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Sakura replied. She reached down and stroked her daughter’s hair. “It just takes a bit of adjustment when I’m so used to you being a little girl in need of my protection.”

“Well, I’m not that little anymore.”

“I know, and I know you want to know what happened, but there are some things I can’t tell you just yet. Some things you don’t need to know. Okay?” Her hand paused on her daughter’s head.

Sarada nodded. “Okay.”

“Good,” she kissed the girl’s forehead. “But seeing as you’re old enough to ask, I suppose it means you’re old enough to understand what I can tell you.” Sakura took a deep breath – to brace herself, Sarada realized – and for a moment said nothing. Then, placing her hand on the back of Sarada’s head, she said, “Sometimes, when you come from a prominent family, you have to be on the lookout for those who want to hurt you because of it.”

 “I know that, mama. You told me that when I was, like, four.” She’d lost count of the number of times she’d been forced to sit through the whole spiel.

_‘You’re an Uchiha, Sarada.’_

_‘Your papa has many enemies, Sarada.’  
_

Her mama had made her very aware that there might be people out there who wanted to hurt her for her bloodline, but what did that have to do with Boruto? There were plenty of Hyūga out there and it wasn’t like he had the Byakugan. At least, she didn’t think he did, and even if that were the case surely there were easier targets than–

_The Hokage’s son._

Sarada couldn’t breathe.

Sakura only smiled, strained, as if she knew exactly where Sarada's thoughts had led her and was trying to soften the blow. “I know you know, honey. What I’m trying to say is that, as Hokage-sama’s son, Boruto is a prime target for some of these people. There are a lot of criminals out there who think Boruto is a good way to get money, and they will do whatever they think they have to to get him.”

“S-so, wait.” _Breathe._ “S-someone tried to–they tried to–” Sarada couldn’t finish. Her words came out in stopgap stutters as she tried to wrap her brain around the fact that Boruto had been…had been…

Her mother nodded, jade eyes solemn. “Yes. We managed to catch them in time and Boruto is going to be fine, but someone did try to kidnap him.”

The room spun. Sarada wasn’t even aware of her mother anymore as a cold sweat broke across her skin. There was a pressure behind her eyes that she fervently tried to ignore and the bed seemed to fall away beneath her.

She’d been in class. She’d been joking with Chōchō and laughing about stupid little crushes while Boruto was locked under the arms of a stranger probably terrified out of his mind. How had she even thought to – what? Laugh? There was no reason for the bottomless well of guilt pooling inside her. How could she have known? How could anyone have known?

**_Shikadai knew. He knew something was wrong._ **

Oh gods, Shikadai. He was going to go ballistic, and Himawari…

_You have to be okay, dummy. You just…you have to be okay._

A sudden thought occurred to her, one that sent her mind grinding to a halt. “Mama,” she whispered, “W-when did you find out?” Because Shikadai had come in long before Shino-sensei, and combined with the roll call…that was a long time for no one to be searching for him. “He went to the bakery. That’s not far from the Academy. Y-you had to know then, right? You knew right away.” She begged her mother to tell her that Boruto had already been saved before Shino-sensei noticed his absence in class, that he wasn’t part of that awful explosion, but her mother only stared unseeing at the sheets. “Mama?”

“No, Sarada. Nobody knew.”

“So, when Shino-sensei left…”

“He went to let Hokage-sama know Boruto was missing,” Sakura finished for her. “It’s a very good thing he did, too. Shino-sensei probably saved Boruto’s life.”

“Saved his life?” Sarada swallowed harshly. “But you said he was fine. You said he was gonna be fine.”

Something – something dark – flickered behind her mother’s eyes, like the shutter of a camera closing on an unpleasant picture.

“Mama?”

“Yes, Sarada,” Sakura said, haggard and still and smiling so tightly it obscured her eyes. “He’s going to be fine.”

**_Liar._ **

Sarada reached for the trash bin just in time for her stomach to fully rebel. Gurgling burps pushed the puke forward and her tongue burned at the caustic taste. She could smell the pungent odor in her nose as it clogged with snot, the pressure of cotton in her ears, and the unpleasant flush of icy heat that coated her body and made even her mother’s touch an unwelcomed one.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Sakura soothed, rubbing circles along her back. Her mother had been kind enough to remove her glasses before they fell into the pile of vomit, but she could do nothing for the deluge of tears that streamed down Sarada’s face.

She babbled, lips coated in chunks of half-digested dinner. Not a word of it made sense, choked by tears as they were, but in her head she cycled them all on repeat. _Idiot. You’re such an idiot, Boru. You’re such an idiot. Please be okay. Please be okay. Idiot. You’re such an idiot._

Eventually, the vomiting stopped, leaving her with a hollow sensation deep in her gut and a burned throat. Her mother wiped away the remaining bile from her lips and pressed a cold glass of water to her mouth that she drank greedily. It tasted rancid with the after bite of acid, but she was too parched to care and too tired to argue.

She just wanted this day to end. She just wanted to pretend this never happened.

Her mother’s arms wound around her and Sarada happily sank into the warm embrace. Tears dripped down her cheeks, quieter now that the nausea was gone. She sniffled, her nose still stuffy and her body sticky with sweat. Any minute now her mama would run a chakra-wrapped hand over her head to sooth the oncoming headache, as was the custom whenever Sarada got sick. She waited for it with each stroke through her hair, but it never came.

Sarada’s eyes flew open. Her mother wasn’t using any medical jutsu. Why–?

She pushed aside her own discomfort for a moment and concentrated on her mother’s embrace. It was warm, certainly, and held with it all the promises of safety, but every so often her arms would tremble or her body dip in the telltale signs of exhaustion.

 _She can’t_ , Sarada realized with a start. Her mother was too drained to heal her. But what could have possibly pushed _the_ Uchiha Sakura to such a point?

_Boruto._

She stiffened and her mother peered down at her in confusion. “Sarada?”

Sarada did not respond. She was too busy trying to push aside the mounting horror pulsating throughout her body.

_“He’s going to be fine.”_

_Liar._

Fine did not leave her mother so drained she couldn’t heal a fish. Fine did not take all day. Fine did not have Sakura lying through her damn teeth.

“Sarada, what’s wrong?”

 _Everything._ This morning her life had been normal. She’d done her homework, gone to school, and expected to finish her day as she had every other. Learning one of her friends was in the hospital, possibly dying, was not how she’d ever thought this day would go.

But how to explain that to her mother, who wouldn’t even own up to the fact that not everything was hunky-dory? She sniffled again, trying to gain some modicum of control back over her voice, but failed miserably.

“Mama?” She choked on another round of sobs. Gods, why was this so difficult? “You’re gonna make Boruto better, right? You won’t let him get hurt anymore?”

Her mother tensed, arms constricting around her before slowly relaxing. Did she get that Sarada knew she was lying? Maybe, maybe not. Sakura squeezed her once. “I’ll do my best, my love. I’ll do my best.”

That, at least, Sarada could accept. Her mama was the best medic in the village. If she said she would do her best, then Boruto would be just fine. He’d be fine and he’d come back to school and everything would go back to normal.

She snuggled further into her mother’s arms and tried to convince herself it was true.     

* * *

“…missing something."

“…Tenten found…”

“…can’t understand...breaks too many laws of…”

The choppy voices reverberating out into the dimly lit hallways of Torture and Interrogation were almost enough to make Shikamaru turn around and head back the way he came. From the outside, he could just make out the anxious lilt of Ino’s tone and the urgent one in Sai’s. Neither spelled good news, and the only reason he didn’t turn away right then and there was the threat of prospective trouble should he do so.

He was tired, overwhelmingly so, and he would later blame this exhaustion and the desire to go home that had him barging into Ino’s office without so much as a cleared throat. “Please tell me this isn’t as bad at sounds from out there.”

“Shikamaru!” Ino whirled around, blonde ponytail whacking her husband on the shoulder. “Learn to knock, why don’t you!”

“Sorry,” he said, lacking an ounce of actual apology. “It’s been a long day. Have you found something?”

Ino scoffed, stepping back from Sai to perch along the edge of her desk. “If by ‘something’ you mean unintelligible gibberish, then yes. Tell me if you can understand this.” She motioned to Sai who immediately handed over a packet of meticulously drawn sealing matrices for him to peruse. Some of them looked to have been placed atop sketches of various weaponry while others lay along human outlines. “Tenten found them everywhere.”

“Seals?” He wasn’t as familiar with the art as Sai, Tenten or Naruto, but he’d seen enough over the years to pick out the inconsistencies.

“Yep,” Ino said. “On clothes, weapons, bandages, bags – you name it, it’s there. And get this, the medical reports all came back conclusive for full body fūinjutsu.”

“What?” The only full-body fūinjutsu he knew of were Naruto’s Kyuubi cloak and Orochimaru’s cursed seals. Which, if Orochimaru was behind this, made a sick sort of sense. “All of them?”

“Mmhm, but the ones we’re most concerned about are these four.” She gathered four manila folders from the desk and slid them over for Shikamaru to peruse. He flickered through them, but could see nothing at the offset that would indicate anything unsettling. If anything, they were all startlingly average.

“Why them?”

“They’re related. It’s still unclear as to the exact connection, but the equipment we confiscated off them was…strange.”

“Strange how? Are we thinking kekkei genkai?”

“Nothing showed up in their blood work, but their weapons are different and the sealing matrices are almost a complete inverse of the others’.”

“Do we know what they do?”

“No, and that’s the problem,” Sai interjected. His face was a blank mask; a warning sign if ever there was one. “There’s no record of seals like these. What’s more, they’re breaking a fundamental law of fūinjutsu.”

Shikamaru’s brow furrowed. “How so?”

Sai waffled, but where any other shinobi might have fidgeted, he remained at attention. It would have been impressive if it weren’t so sad. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try.”

There was a pause, slight, as Sai tried to come up with some way of explaining it to the uninitiated. “Fūinjutsu works similar to a circuit,” he eventually said. “Open the gate or break the connection and the seal won’t work. These seals appear to work opposite that law, as if the chakra current can ‘jump’ the gap.”

“Do we know how?”

“No,” Sai shook his head, “and we haven’t been able to figure it out. Channeling our chakra into the matrix did nothing, as would be expected from a broken seal.”

“And the prisoners didn’t even react when we bound their chakra,” his wife continued. They made for quite a ghostly pair amongst the shadows of the room. “We were afraid the overlay would cause some sort of averse reaction, but nothing happened."

“So if the seals are useless, what’s the problem?”

Sai and Ino exchanged furtive glances. With a nudge of her head, Ino motioned to her husband; of the three, he was the most versed in fūinjutsu. The man let out a quiet sigh, but pointed to a seal located around the hand region on one of the body diagrams. “This. The seal just stops as if cut in half. That’s not possible under every known law of fūinjutsu. You’d be lucky to get blown up. They shouldn’t even be stable enough to be inert.”

Shikamaru’s eyebrows rose to the hairline. “Have you told the Hokage?” Doubtful, otherwise Shikamaru probably would have heard of it already, but it was the smartest course of action. Naruto had worked his ass off ever since the war to become a master in the art.

“It’s in our reports,” Ino said. “Not that we were able to write anything about them other than ‘this is fucking weird.’”

Sai nodded. “The good news it that there appears to be enough of a commonality between them that once we figure out the matrix on one item, it should be easy enough to do the same with the rest.”

“Yeah, well I’m going to take a wild guess and say it’s not going to be as easy as you’re making it sound.” If anything Sai had just jinxed them.

“Probably not, no.”

“Troublesome.” Why couldn’t it just be a random gang out to make some quick cash? Shikamaru rubbed a tired hand along the bridge of his nose. “I’ll update Naruto in the morning. In the meantime, keep trying to see if you can get the matrices to work. And keep a close eye on the prisoners. If the containment seals do start reacting, I want to know immediately.” They couldn’t afford another explosion right now.

“Of course. I’ll let Tenten know.” He turned to his wife, eyes softening a fraction. “See you at home?”

“Yeah,” Ino smiled, pulling herself to her feet and planting a quick kiss to his cheek. “Anko should be in to relieve me soon. I’ll pick up Inojin and meet you there.”

“Sounds good. Have a good night, Shikamaru-san.” Sai tossed him a small wave as he turned away and headed out the door.

“Night,” Shikamaru called after him.

The door closed with a soft _click_ , leaving the teammates alone in the darkened office. There were no windows this far below ground, and Ino was just the right sort of dramatic to keep it dim for the sake of ambiance. What little light she did keep bounced off the mahogany furniture in such a way as to make the room appear like it was bleeding. A part of him wondered if this was standard issue for T&I or if it was simply Ino’s own macabre sense of humor shining through.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You do know you have blood on your collar, right?”

“Hm?” The blonde woman craned her neck and glanced down, flicking a thumb across the stain. “Oh, you’re right. Thanks, Shika.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Alright, aside from some seals you can’t make heads or tails of, have you got anything else to show for that ruined shirt?”

“Ruined? I’ve had worse on this shirt than a drop of blood. You know that.” She flicked a blonde bang out of her face. “But if you’ve come here to ask me if I’ve broken anyone yet, you’re out of luck. The furthest I’ve got are those charts,” and she pointed towards the diagrams still held in his hands.

“That’s it?”

She shrugged a delicate shoulder. “Unless you want to know their dinner habits, too. Interrogation takes time, Shikamaru. I barely had time to review _those_ , never mind dig into their heads.”

Shikamaru scowled. “You have a whole department.”

“Yes, and most of them are part-time. Hell, even I’m considered part-time. We have seven prisoners, Shikamaru. That’s seven medical examinations, seven seal inspections, and twenty-one interrogators if we want to keep to the speed you’re asking for. These people are locked tighter than Danzo’s bank account. We have to break down restraints, make them malleable, tear through mental shields, all while making sure we don’t accidentally activate whatever sealing they’ve bathed themselves in, before we can even hope to find anything useful. I’m not going to get them all in a day. You want results so badly go bug Forehead and Tsunade-sama; autopsy’s got to be through at least some of the bodies.”

“Autopsy’s barely started.”

Ino’s mouth fell. “What? How is that possible?”

“Naruto restricted the access to A-rank clearance and above. Aside from you, Tsunade, Sakura and Shizune, the number of people available is disturbingly thin. Shizune’s not here, you’re doing this, and Sakura and Tsunade are so drained they couldn’t heal a fish if they tried.”

“They’re still drained?”

Shikamaru slumped, his shoulders falling as the sound of grating teeth filled the office. Rage radiated off him, Ino’s desk lamp casting shadows along his frame. All it would take was a little bit of concentration and those shadows would easily coil their way around each and every prisoner, suffocating and toying with them until they talked. “Boruto _just_ came out of surgery, Ino.”

“Just?” That was impossible. It was almost nine at night. Her fingers brushed along the dark red desk as she caught herself against it. “It’s been twelve hours.”

“Yeah,” the man nodded with barely restrained composure. “And he was in surgery for nine of them.”

“Nine?” Nine hours of surgery. Under Tsunade and Sakura. Ino’s butt hit the desk with a _thump_. She tried to imagine Inojin under those circumstances and couldn’t get past the thought of a paper cut.

“Nine,” Shikamaru confirmed. “He’s not doing well, Ino.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t say anything for a minute, too busy processing and filing away everything he wasn’t saying. Her eyes closed in an attempt to shut out the image, but all it did was make it worse. “Do they need an extra pair of hands?” She would drop everything if needed; all he had to do was say the word.

Shikamaru shook his head. His posture returned to normal, but there was a darkness flickering behind his eyes, one that seemed to feed off the shadows caressing her office. “Not now. Just figured you ought to know the full situation before you headed back downstairs.”

 _Oh, you manipulative bastard._ Ino tossed him a baleful look and crossed her long legs into a more comfortable position. “You’re a real dick, you know that, Shikamaru?”

He chuffed. “So you’ve told me.” He fished a cigarette out of his pouch and lit it, bringing the stick up to his mouth and inhaling deeply. A plume of smoke burst from his nostrils a second later, as if he were one of the trains in Yuki no Kuni. He slouched in contentment.

“I thought you quit,” Ino remarked, eyeing the cigarette in distaste.

“ _Tch_ , special circumstances.”

Good point. “Just don’t make it a habit. I don’t want to have to come over and scrape out your lungs again. Once was enough.” Shikamaru’s lips twisted, but the woman threw it off with efficiency born from years of practice. Her expression fell. “How are Naruto and Hinata?”

“How do you _think_?” The man spat. He let out a weighty sigh, one mixed with grey smoke, and mentally forced himself to calm down, grinding his unfinished cigarette into the lacquered flooring as he did so. Ino wrinkled her nose. “They’re as well as can be expected. Tsunade-sama gave me the update. They had to put him in a coma. Kid can’t breathe on his own. Can’t eat either. Blast lung. Cranial swelling. The list goes on.”

Ino closed her eyes and turned away. “Gods.” She shook her head. “Himawari?”

“Safe with Shino. If anyone's going to make an attempt on her, the last place they'll suspect is the Hive.”

“That’s something, I guess,” she admitted, kicking her feet about in the air. She distracted herself by fumbling with one of Inojin’s old art projects. It was a personal favorite – a clay figurine of one of his father’s lions. “How are the boys?"

The desire to light another cigarette was almost overwhelming, but Shikamaru refrained. Temari wouldn’t be happy if he came home smelling like a chimney. “They want to know what happened. Temari’s been trying to distract them, but they’re not five anymore. She says we need to tell Shikadai – he’s made himself sick with worry twice since he got home – but she wanted your permission to talk to Inojin."

Ino picked up the colorful little lion, long manicured nails trailing its grinning face, and ran a tired hand through her ponytail. She was going to have grey hair by the end of all this. “He’s not going to take this well.”

“We don’t have to tell him. If you want we can leave it up to you.”

Ino shook her head. She placed the figurine back on the desk. “No, no; better he have a friend there with him. Just…basics only.”

Shikamaru snorted. “It’s not like we’re allowed to tell them anything else. As far as Naruto’s concerned, everything is under control.”

“It’s not.” If it were she wouldn’t be neck deep in a field she had no knowledge of.

“It is to the rest of the village.”

“And Boruto?”

“Is fine and recovering in the hospital.”

“Fine, _right_. You know this little white lie of yours has the potential to backfire magnificently, don’t you, Shikamaru?” She stressed into the silence. Shikamaru didn’t respond. He just leveled her with a shadowed stare that bespoke just how aware he was of the dangerous tightrope they were walking. Ino sighed in resignation. “Of course you do. Alright. We’ll do it your way. But if Inojin comes waltzing up to me, asking me why he hasn’t seen his friend in over a week, I’m pointing him towards you.”

“I have a feeling you won’t be the only one.” Not with his own son making himself so sick over the whole thing.

“No, I have a feeling I won’t.” Ino crumpled forward, hands braced against the hard edge of her desk as she stared into the burgundy carpet. Funny, how her mind could turn a rug into a pool of blood. Absently, she reached to fiddle with the keys along her belt. There were thirty of them, each one setting off a chime to deafen the ears. T&I was designed to echo. “I should be able to get through one more prisoner before Anko gets here,” she said eventually. “Mind watching Inojin till then?”

Shikamaru shook his head. “Course. Anything you want me to tell him while I play messenger?”

Ino’s lips twisted. “Yes. Tell him mommy knows about the ink stains on the carpet he tried to cover up this morning by moving the furniture and that if he thinks he’s going to get out of cleaning it up he’s got another thing coming.”

Shikamaru grunted. “Anything else?” he asked.

“No, that’s about it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right. Bring your last report to me when you come by. Tsunade-sama and I are handling them tonight.”

She nodded, seafoam eyes downcast. Any other situation and the paperwork would have gone straight to Naruto. “Of course, and let me know if they need me for anything.”

His lips pursed around the edges and he inclined his head to the hallway. “Just do your job.”

“Yes, sir,” she muttered, low in her chest. “Oh, and Shikamaru?” She waited for him to turn around. “Tell Inojin I love him.”

“ _Tch_. Tell him yourself,” but his tone lacked ire. It was all the reassurance Ino needed.

The door closed behind him gently and Ino let out a strained sigh, falling against the wood as she attempted to fight off her growing headache. This was a nightmare. All she wanted to do was run home, pick up her son, and hold on to him forever. Instead, she was reduced to an evening spent in the company of kidnappers who had already proven their lack of compunctions towards hurting children. Reaching out a hand, she plucked one of the files off her desk and glanced at the name. Her teal-eyes flinted, flashing a hunter’s green in the darkness. She scowled.

**_“He’s not doing well, Ino.”_ **

_You bastard, Shikamaru._

Her hand clenched around the document, wrinkling the paper, and she had to consciously unfurl her fingers so they didn’t end up tearing it to shreds. There was a photograph clipped to the manila folder, depicting a bland, forgettable face, which she ended up tossing back onto her desk. It was inconsequential. Work this job long enough and everyone began to look the same.

With deft finger she unzipped the top of her shirt just enough to allow for a small amount of cleavage to peak through. Some kunoichi may have reservations about the technical use of their bodies, but Ino was not one of them. Sex appeal drove miles in this line of work. A deep breath followed, one that allowed her to push aside the overwhelming rage boiling inside her, before she hopped off the desk and waltzed out the door into the corridor. Her grey interrogator’s coat lapped at her ankles, swishing dramatically behind her as she made her way to the cells.

The hallways were unusually busy, to the point where it was easy to imagine how the department must have looked in her father’s day. Subordinates hurried about, saluting as she passed, but none stopped to chat, all of them far too busy to speak of anything not pertaining to work. They scurried in groups – one or two dragging a semi-conscious prisoner by the elbows – all of them indulging off the screams filtering from the rooms below.

The upper floors were mostly administrative, but it was the basement where the staff thrived. Ino’s high heels _click clack_ -ed across the polished floor, echoing throughout the corridors in such a way as to send some of the older prisoners into paroxysms. As for the newer ones, Ino had long since found that anticipation did more for her guests than pain ever could.

She sliced her thumb over the blood seal marking the entrance to the ward and entered without hassle. Sensory deprivation rooms allowed for the prisoners to neither see, nor feel, nor smell anyone approach. All they could do was wait and hear the amplified _clack_ -ing of her heels against stone. Was she coming for them? They could only guess.

Ino rounded the corner, listing off numbers in her head: _C-129_ , _C-131_ , _C-133_. She reached the next cell and placed her hand on the seal beside the door that read C-135. The seal bloomed purple for a second and her hand prickled in the familiar sensation of drawn chakra. It lasted only a second before the ink returned to normal and the door barreled open.

She stepped inside, one deliberate step after another so as to enhance the sharp sound of her heels. The door swished shut behind her and lights suddenly blared to life. The prisoner, a perfectly average man in an unremarkable shinobi uniform, jolted with pain at the unexpected change. Ino smirked.

With slow, languid steps forward, she assessed the man. The medical report put him in his mid-thirties, with dark brown hair and a smattering of freckles on his cheeks. Aside from the seals, his examination indicated a mid-level affinity for fire techniques. Considering how he jumped when the lights came on, Ino surmised he couldn’t have been any more advanced than your run-of-the-mill chuunin. Albeit, he was doing a fair job of feigning bravado and his mental shields were nothing to scoff at. She doubted there was much he knew, but even the smallest detail might prove important and Ino was a very thorough kunoichi.

She crouched down in front of the defiant man, her cleavage sitting just below his eye-line. His body twitched, but otherwise remained unresponsive. Impressive. He would be fun to break. Ino allowed herself a smile; teeth gleaming like newly carved gravestones under painted lips. It was every bit as enticing and beatific as designed, and she used the image of Boruto’s body lying bloody on the grass to sharpen its edges.

Taking the man’s cheek in her hand, she allowed herself a measure of satisfaction in the way her nails raked across his skin. “I hope you’re comfortable, sir. We have a long night ahead of us.”

**_“He’s not doing well, Ino.”_ **

Inojin superimposed Boruto in her mind – her little boy awash with blood and dirt. It could have been him. It could have so easily been him. Her face hardened, unforgiving. Polished nails dug into the man’s face, ruby drops beading along the flesh as she forced him to look into her narrowed eyes. “To think, this could have been avoided so easily. Oh well.

“ _Shintenshin no Jutsu_.”

* * *

Yugakure was no different than the vast majority of other places Sasuke had visited over years. There were trees, onsens (pretty impressive, he would admit, but they were still just a bunch of hot springs), rocks and craters – lots and lots and _lots_ of craters. Such large craters that half the time Sasuke was convinced he could spend the entire day walking and remain in the exact same one.

Not that that was their fault. The Fourth Shinobi War took a lot of the blame for that one, but it was still a pain in the ass and an obstacle he could have done without.

Still, for all its faults and monotony, Yugakure wasn’t that bad. The people were friendly, if a bit standoffish, and there was enough unsettled land that he could spend his time languishing under the sun without having to worry about the locals. He liked the silence the forests brought him; they were calm and he didn’t have to spend all his time under the constant thrum of impending danger. It was nice to enjoy the simple things every so often; gave him time to think – to focus on the good things he had missed over the years and all the reasons to preserve the peace they had now.

He took a sip of water from his canteen. One thing Sasuke would admit: Yugakure certainly had some of the freshest water he had ever tasted. His camp was situated beside a clear little lake – which may or may not have been a crater at one point – and lacked any notable settlements for miles around. He was perched up against an aging oak, the fire casting shadows across his face and his cloak drying by the flames. Storm clouds had passed over the area not long prior, but the day had since ended and with it so had the rain. Only soft grass and petrichor remained.

It was quiet, without even the hum of insects. Sasuke fiddled with an object in his pocket.

Like always, he didn’t remove the item. It remained in his pocket, fingers caressing the worn plastic. He knew every scrape, every tear, every feature and he could draw its subjects with his eyes closed, but Sasuke much preferred feeling it to looking at it. Feeling was comfort; looking was longing. If he looked at the picture, he would want to go back, and he just couldn’t go back yet. His mission wasn’t over.

The Uchiha leaned his head against the wood and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of rain and smoke. Off in the distance echoed the sound of waves crashing against the shore. There was a slight chill in the air and he urged the fire higher. Warmth tickled his cheeks, feather-light and echoing a woman’s touch. He brushed the object again. For the moment, Sasuke was content.

“Uchiha-san.” There was a popping sound and the man opened his eyes languidly, unconcerned by the sudden appearance of one of Naruto’s toads. The Hokage had a tendency to send Sasuke random notes; some of them were important, but most were just to keep in contact. He seemed to gain some sort of perverse pleasure out of writing long messages just to get one or two word replies.

Sasuke might have enjoyed it too.

“Hmm?” He intoned, raising an eyebrow and gazing at the red and orange toad with disinterest. Gamadoro was one of Naruto’s more common messengers. The toad was fast and always had a good instinct for where to find him.

“Naruto-sama has an urgent message for you. Will you accept?” The toad asked.

Sasuke didn’t verbally reply; he just reached out his hand for the note and Gamadoro extended his tongue to deposit a scroll with Naruto’s personal seal on it. Now that was intriguing. The Hokage’s seal was only used for official matters.

He raised his other eyebrow and gazed at the toad. Gamadoro stared back steadily, not even flinching under his mismatched eyes. Sasuke chuffed and turned his attention back to the letter, examining it closer. At first glance he saw nothing significant beside the official emblem, but a second turn over and a flicker of the fire illuminated something else under his friend’s insignia. His visible eye widened.

Sasuke’s head jerked, his stare intense and piercing. “This is a blood seal.”

Gamadoro nodded indifferently. “It is.”

“What happened?”

“Naruto-sama has stated everything in his letter.”

“And I’m asking you.”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” the toad fired back. “You are not my summoner, Uchiha-san.”

Sasuke snorted, but focused again on the note. He had to hand it to Gamadoro – the toad had guts. Choosing not to argue, Sasuke bit his thumb and smeared his blood over the seal. It glowed blue for a second before disintegrating, the parchment unfolding before him.

The note was short, only a few sentences long, and Sasuke was quick to skim the message. He read it through once, only mildly interested, before stopping and hurriedly moving back to the beginning. The deep blood red of his Sharingan burned through the darkness as he subconsciously channeled chakra to his eyes and committed the words to memory. His fingers clench over the paper and an inferno ignited in his stomach. It raged through his body, flooding his veins and seeping into the air. Gamadoro twitched, but otherwise made no comment on the sudden change in atmosphere

Naruto’s note caught fire and quickly disintegrated into ashes.

Sasuke turned flashing eyes to the toad, his Mangekyō an unsettling dichotomy to the Rinnegan. Gamadoro actually backed up a step. He didn’t fear the man, but he would be foolish to not be wary in his presence.

Dumping the ashes into the mud beside him, Sasuke stood and grabbed his cloak. It was still damp, but he didn’t care. Extinguishing the fire, he stared back down at the toad and said, “They better not be late.”

A rustle of displaced air and he was off, bounding into the trees at a speed he hadn’t had need for in quite a while. He missed Gamadoro’s exit, the smoke mixing in with that of the dead fire, as he kept his gaze focused in front of him. Sasuke clutched the picture in his pocket tightly, the faces of his family staring back at him from his mind’s eye.

Naruto’s final sentence echoed in his head.

 _They tried to kill my son_.

Sasuke ran faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. That was a doozy. So the kids are too smart for their own good, Ino, Shikamaru and Sai have a problem, and Sasuke is off to find Orochimaru. I hope to have the next chapter up sometime next week and would love to hear what you guys think. Please leave a review to tell me your thoughts and any advice you may have. 
> 
> Also, I'm thinking about changing the title of this story to The Slippery Slope, so let me know what you think about that. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


	3. I Wouldn't Rip the Stars from the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are on chapter 3! Thank you so much to everyone who gave kudos or left me a review. They make me so happy to see:) We finally get to revisit Hinata and Naruto in this chapter so I hope you all enjoy!

ANBU Ushi sped through the trees at a pace many would have found impossible to match. His feet barely touched wood, instead seeming to glide right over the branches as if he were skating in mid air. Willowy limbs swayed behind him, stretched as if poised to catch something. Every few kilometers a device inlayed to his glove would flash with a soft blue light. From a distance, it was designed to mimic the effect of natural light through leaves.

His team, a uniformed group of four, ran nimbly behind him. Their tread was silent as they bounded through the forest, and any fatigue they felt was ignored for the betterment of the mission. Bright moonlight filtered down through the trees, spreading their shadows behind them in a haunting visage. It would be midnight soon, and the team wanted to make it to the rendezvous point before it became too dark to see through.

“Coming up on the Valley,” Ushi said. “Formation 3.”

“Sir,” ANBU Kirin replied from his place at the rear. He took a leap backwards as ANBU Yagi and Rakuda spread outwards to form a diamond, and ANBU Uma drifted to the center. “Enacted.”

Ushi nodded. “Trace area.”

From his position, Kirin grunted. “Byakugan.” The forest flickered into grayscale. He could see the way chakra pooled in his teammates, and the faint threads of chakra in the trees, but nothing out of the ordinary. He held the sight for a moment more before turning it off. “No activity, captain.”

“Good. Rakuda,” he barked.

Without a word, a swarm of bugs flew out from under Rakuda’s cloak – hundreds of them spreading into the trees. When they had finally disappeared from view, Ushi tilted his head towards Yagi.

The woman dropped away from the group, falling to a lower branch, and extended her arm outwards to touch the trunks. With each tree, she released a seal that corresponded to the monitors build into her gloves. Every spike in foreign chakra would be recorded by the seals and sent directly to her.

“Approaching Valley in 20 kilometers,” Ushi declared.

The trees began to thin as the group ran further towards the border. Pockmarked land littered the area, and within minutes the forests had completely disappeared. Instead, the ground had transformed into a barren landscape only populated by a giant crater. A small pool of water was situated at the bottom, a lonely remnant of the falls that had once showered the area. The team slowed.

“Stop,” Nu’s leader signaled, lifting his hand. He dropped to the edge of the crater as his team followed behind, keeping their senses on alert. The debriefing they’d had on Oto tactics had stressed their proclivity for ambushing. Ushi motioned to Yagi. “Any signals?”

“Negative. Nothing out of the ordinary,” she said.

Ushi nodded and tilted his head towards Kirin. The Hyūga, his fists slightly more pronounced than was appropriate, activate his Byakugan. He again scanned the area before shaking his head. “Nothing, sir.”

“Good.” Ushi eyed him for a moment, his ox mask making for an unnerving stare. “Relax, Kirin.”

Kirin took a deep breath. “I apologize, sir. I’m trying.”

Ushi turned away. “Try harder.”

“Sir,” the Hyūga clipped, though the sound his teeth made as he gnashed them together echoed throughout the Valley. Uma laid a hand on his shoulder, soothing green chakra seeping from her palm.

“Uma,” their leader snapped, startling her. She didn’t visibly react, but Kirin could feel the fluctuation of chakra. “Save your reserves for later.” Uma reluctantly removed her hand, both admittedly missing the contact. Suddenly, Rakuda tensed.

“Captain, my kikaichū are reporting an anomaly,” he said.

The team immediately went on the defensive. Kirin activated his Byakugan, pathways pulsing behind his giraffe mask as he scanned the area. He pushed his sight as far as he could, almost giving up when a flicker appeared on his peripheral. It got brighter and brighter until–

“Yagi!” He shouted as the world exploded. His teammate’s shattered goat mask flew over his head. There were flashes across his eyes as exploding tags went off around them and a searing heat ran along his flesh.

Hands immediately shot out from under the ground, stretching so as to latch onto the fleeing shinobis’ legs. Yagi was caught and yanked downwards before she had time to react. The earth constricted around her, leaving only her screams behind. On the device in Ushi’s palm Yagi’s diagnostics faded before settling into a pitch black.

“Shit,” the captain seethed to himself. He tried to alter the frequency on his communicator quickly so as to reach his team, but it was a futile endeavor. Within seconds he was under siege. Another explosion nearby sent his ears ringing and he had no more time to think of his team.

In the chaos, Rakuda had managed to flee back into the forests. His kikaichū swarmed against a group of five indistinguishable shinobi. Blank, black masks covered their faces without even any eyeholes for them to see through, and Rakuda’s heart raced against his ribcage as they advanced. His mouth went dry. He dispatched more swarms of kikaichū in an attempt to drain his opponents so he could follow behind with his tantō, but whenever he got close his attackers would disappear.

With a burst of speed, he managed to separate one of the assailants from their head, but froze when the man didn’t drop to the ground. Instead, the body shuddered; dispersing into a mist that blended into the darkness before finally reforming, head once more intact. Rakuda’s surprise lasted for only a second, but by time he came back to his senses it was too late. One of the other men barreled through the swarm of bugs protecting him and ran a nodachi through his sternum. The ANBU gasped, choking as blood filled his airway, and plummeted through the trees in a lifeless slump. His camel mask shattered on impact.

Back in the crater, Kirin and Uma stood back-to-back. The Hyūga made an attempt to protect his team’s medic, but it was futile against the onslaught. There were just so _many_. A least a dozen shinobi stood against them. With the moon as their only source of light, the duo were at a disadvantage. The horse-masked healer was nowhere near the level of Tsunade or Sakura in terms of taijutsu; her skills lay more squarely in the field of medicine, and she was having a hard time against their more combat-oriented enemies. Chakra scalpels in hand, she whirled and sliced, attempting to hit something vital. Nothing worked.

“They don’t have any pathways,” Kirin shouted over the chaos. “It’s solid chakra!”

“What?” Uma exclaimed, keeping her attention on her opponent. She tried to kick aside one of the shadows, but his body just dispersed into air. Her eyes widened. A ball of panic welled inside her.

“They’re not–!” He yelled out before he was caught from behind by one of the men. Kirin jerked, grasping the man’s throat and tossing him over his shoulder. He fired a chakra-coated palm into the man’s face only for it to phase right through.

“W-what the hel–” But he was cut off as the flash of a nodachi appeared in his vision. Kirin ducked, feeling the frigid bite of air as the weapon sliced over his head. He pivoted to send a palm strike back when something warm splattered into his eyes. He staggered. Someone let out a scream.   

“Uma? Uma!” The medic’s body was collapsed in the mud, blood pooling from her neck. In a moment of stunned horror, Kirin realized her head was missing. One of the assailants took advantage of his shock to make a swipe at his feet, but his Byakugan caught it just in time for him to jump aside. He tripped over the carcass.

_Crack._

Kirin blanched. He scrambled away from the body, warm blood slicking his fingers and vomit stinging his tongue. Something tumbled into the crater. Hysteria took over. _They’re not real. This isn’t real. I have to-I have to–_

His Byakugan shut down. The fight fizzled around him. He had to find Uma’s head. If she had her head she could heal herself. The surrounding shinobi stopped, seemingly content to watch him flail about in the mud. He didn’t even notice them until one strode forward and kneed him in the torso.

“Gah!” The force of the attack sent his mask flying. It landed with a _plop_ into the water, but Kirin no longer had the mental capacity to lament its loss. He struggled to get air back into his lungs as spots danced along his vision. Sharp stones imbedded themselves in his wounds as he clambered about the rocks. The smell of smoke and feces burned his nose.

Another shinobi moved languidly towards him. He – _It_ – toed him in the side and sent the hysterical ANBU careening into the crater. Kirin let out a scream that was quickly halted by the influx of water. He choked, hoping to expel the taste of salt and copper. His hand curled around a mossy rock and a crack echoed through the night at the force of his grip. Had he looked up, Kirin would have noticed one of his assailants pull out a kunai. Instead, his fingers threaded themselves into the curly moss. The air left his lungs. His eyes flickered downwards.

“Uma?” His teammate’s head lay under his hand, his fingers tangled in her hair, and her face frozen in an expression of surprise. The crack had been the sound of her nose breaking.

Kirin vomited.

Blood and bile spewed from his lips in a wet gurgle. The sharp acidic taste stung his tongue. Uma’s face seared into his retinas. Somewhere, he registered the sound of a whistle.

The crater exploded.

Heat lapped at his face, melding his skin to his cloak, and his eyes burned from the ash. He could feel hands – claws – digging into his shoulders. They pressed further, like sharpened knives into his flesh. Air ripped at his insides, burning him alive; he felt like he was being wrenched apart and only the sheer agony kept him from screaming.

He was cold.

There was a hole in his chest and his fingers felt wet from searching. The last firing of electrical signals to his brain noted his heart was gone. Everywhere was dark and his Byakugan wasn’t working.

_Uma_ , he collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

Ushi watched as the last lifeline faded on his palm. He held in the curse that threatened to escape and reached out with his senses for any measure of safety. He could sense the enemy converging on his spot and reached out to delay them with a multi-layered genjutsu. It would only hold for a few minutes, but those few minutes were all he needed. He took the opportunity to burrow into the ground, hoping to catch his breath and think up a plan. First, he had to contact Konoha. They were no doubt aware of his teammates’ deaths; the seals placed on their skin had likely already relayed the lack of electrical activity back to ANBU headquarters. However, as mission captain it was his duty to send back as much information as possible before he too was killed.

He twisted the monitor on his glove, switching from _Vitals_ to _Relay_. With blood-slicked fingers he typed out a four-character code and hastily transmitted them to Konoha. His breath sounded harsh against his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut just briefly – just enough to stop the world from tilting. When he opened them again, he attempted to type out as much information on their assailants as he could, but the ground shook before he had time to send it and Ushi found his air bubble dissolving. He quickly scrambled to move, but soon realized his feet had been cemented to the ground. Mud piled around him, closing in, and Ushi’s heart flew to his throat. He tried to scream, but dirt poured in, and he scrounged about for air.

He had to get out; he had to _move_.

His chakra wasn’t responding, his limbs wouldn’t react, the air was getting thinner. There was a grinding sound from above him and then _air_ – glorious, _glorious_ air. Had one of his teammates tricked the sensors?

No.

A black mask shadowed over him and Ushi’s world shifted. Blood drained from his face leaving him adrift in a sea of anticipation. A spike of rock appeared above him and the ANBU only had a split-second to register his fate. Then, there was a _whoosh_ , pain, and a flash of red. Ushi’s mask shattered and his world descended into oblivion.

Back in Konoha, Kiba hung is head as the last of Team Nu’s vitals faded into nothing.

* * *

Hinata didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep, but when she awoke it was to find her face smooshed into the side of her son’s bed, her hands still wrapped around his and a blanket draped across her shoulders. Sunrise was just around the corner, the blue light of false dawn slowly streaming through the window. It reflected off her son’s face to pinpoint every angle and highlight upon the little color he had been able to regain overnight. He was still pale, but his skin no longer blended into the bed sheets and there was a modicum of rosiness to his cheeks that had been absent the day before. Hinata reached up her hand to brush aside a strand of blond hair.

“He hasn’t moved,” she heard from behind her.

Hinata sighed. “I figured as much, but I’d hoped…” She shook her head. “Never mind.” She shifted, stretching out the muscles in her neck so that she could face her husband. He was watching her from his place on the couch, a spread of documents arranged in his lap. His face was pale and drawn, and he kept pinching the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Enough,” was his terse reply.

“Naruto.”

“I needed to look over the reports.”

“You needed to sleep,” Hinata insisted. “What if–”

“Nata, please.” He gazed at her imploringly, begging her not to press.

Hinata’s face softened and she gently pulled her hand out from under her son’s. A tender kiss to his forehead followed, and then Hinata was gliding across the room to settle beside her husband. Prying a document from his grasp, she wrapped her small hands around his larger one and held fast. “You’ll do no one any good if you push yourself, you know.”

“I know.”

“Naruto,” she stressed, softly clasping his chin. “You need to sleep. You’re not doing Boruto any good like this.”

“I can’t." 

“You can. You have to.” She pressed back against his legs. “The village needs you alert.”

“The village needs me to figure this out.”

“And you will. I know you will. But you can’t do that if you’re falling asleep on your feet.”

“Nata…” He looked away, and she watched his mouth pull into a line as the sky in his eyes clouded to a storm. Something twisted in her stomach.

“What happened?”

Rather than answer, he pulled his hand from her’s and plucked a small sheet of paper from the pile. Hinata stared questioningly at him for a moment before taking it and beginning to read. The message was short, barely even worth the paper it was written on, but that didn’t stop her heart from plummeting.

_Ko._ Stop _. Ku._ Stop _. E._ Stop _. N_. Stop.

Codes in Konoha worked on the basis of assigning random katakana to every situation a shinobi could potentially find themselves in. Generally, there was no rhyme or reason to the characters, as doing so would make them that much easier to crack. They changed at random times – sometimes a day, sometimes two– and shinobi were drilled even so far back as the first day of the Academy to learn how to memorize the list at first glance.

It was a skill that, no matter how long out of practice you were, you never quite lost.

_Ko_ – Konoha shinobi in distress

_Ku_ – Suspected enemy shinobi involvement

_E_ – Reinforcements required

_N_ – Conditions clear

Hinata’s brow furrowed. “Conditions clear?” That didn’t mesh with the rest of the message.

“I don’t know. We lost contact with Team Nu around midnight,” Naruto said. “Kiba received this not long after.”

“They haven’t been out for more than twenty-four hours.”

Naruto nodded. “And now they’re missing.”

“What could this mean?" 

She watched as his lips curled, the edges of his eyes crinkling in worry. “I don’t know. They’re a new team, Hinata, but they’re not pushovers. And they were still within the borders. There shouldn’t have been any problems.”

“The recovery team?” She asked, voice so soft it was almost lost.

“Won’t arrive for another few hours.”

Hinata bobbed her head, absently. Of course, it would take time to get there, but by the lines on Naruto’s face and the way he hung his head there had to be something more. He knew he had to sleep, he knew there was nothing he could do for the ANBU from here, and yet he’d stayed up – why?

“Naruto. Talk to me. What is it?” She asked, wrapping her fingers around his arm.

He mumbled something, far too low for her to hear, and she leaned in closer. “Naruto?”

A heavy sigh. “I sent them out there. They were a new team, Nata. Kiba only just released them from training a few months ago.”

“You couldn’t know this would happen,” she soothed, trying to reason with him, but her husband was stubborn and she knew it.

“I should have,” he stressed. “I should have prepared for this. I should have sent more people. I should have–”

“Should have, should have, should have. Do you hear yourself right now?” Hinata asked, cutting him off. She cupped his face. “You couldn’t have prepared for this.”

“Yes, I could. I could have raised the guard around the village, or–”

“Or nothing,” she stopped him again. “You know as well as I do that raising the guard would have been impractical without cause. Taxes would have to be raised and the villagers wouldn’t have stood for that without good reason. Our shinobi would have been pulling doubt time and that would have led to discontent; we’re stretched thin as it is right now. Something would have given, Naruto, and whoever these people are would have exploited us that way.”

“I could have raised his guard, at least,” Naruto said, motioning toward the bed. “And Hima’s." 

Hinata bobbed her head. “Maybe, but we can talk about maybes till the cows come home, and it won’t change what happened.” She glanced away. She couldn’t help it. Unfortunately, that put her in the perfect position to see her son’s comatose form. Hinata closed her eyes. “It’ll be okay, dear. He’ll be okay. He’s as strong as his father.”

Naruto’s lips twitched, mockingly. “His father doesn’t feel very strong right now.”

“He will soon. I know it.” She scooched closer to him so that she could comfortably rest her head on his shoulder and revel in the feeling of his arm wrapping around her. For a second, her world was okay.

“Do you know what you’re going to say to the Council?” Hinata asked after a beat.

She felt him shake his head. “No. We don’t have any more information than we did yesterday. Ino’s still going through prisoners, autopsy’s a mystery, and there were so many weapons recovered Tenten called Karui in. And now that we have this whole mess with Team Nu–” he broke off. 

Hinata couldn’t think of anything to say that would help him. Any reassurance she might be able to offer would only leave a bitter aftertaste if not fulfilled. She bit her lip to stem her anxiety, but all it really did was break skin.

“And no word yet from Sasuke?”

“No, and Shikamaru will be here soon,” he said, peering at the clock above the door. “We need to go over the reports. There’s too much we don’t know and if we end up having to cover something up, better we know exactly what. We can’t have too much getting out.”

“And I need to speak with the clan,” she muttered, dread filling her at just the thought of that conversation.

“They can’t know anything, Nata,” Naruto said, regretfully. “Just what went out yesterday. You know what they’ll do otherwise.”

Hinata sighed. “I know, but we can’t keep mum either, not for something like this. Father and Hanabi are still in the capital, otherwise I could put it off, but the elders will be insulted if I don’t at least make an appearance.”

“Do you want me to come?”

Did she? Yes, but at the same time her husband was needed so many other places that she couldn’t justify stealing him away for something she could well do herself.

She shook her head. “No, I can do it.”

Naruto side-eyed her for a moment. He knew, as well as she did, that when it came to outside threats, the Hyūga Clan was fiercely protective. Any perceived slight could provoke them into anger, and considering the nature of this one, Hinata might not be in the right state to handle them. Granted, Naruto wasn’t exactly in tip-top shape himself.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said, momentarily cupping his cheek. “I’ll be fine. I know how to handle the elders. Besides, Shino placed a few of his bugs on me yesterday, so if anything happens he’ll know to tell you.” Her face lightened in remembrance. “I saw one crawl into Boruto’s hair last night.”

“Heh, good ol’ Shino.” Naruto remarked, the shadows under his eyes brightening for just a second.

“Yes,” Hinata smiled. There was a comfort in the knowledge that both her husband and her friend were watching over Boruto. Enough of a comfort that she should be able to handle anything the clan might do. “He really is a wonderful friend.”

“He is,” her husband agreed. “I wonder how he’s managed with Himawari?”

Hinata giggled despite herself. “I’m sure he’s done a wonderful job, per usual. Himawari really loves her Shino-ji.”

“That she does. We should probably rescue him before she starts asking questions, though.”

“If she hasn’t already.” Which Hinata seriously doubted. “I should go get her.” 

“Do you want me to–”

“No, no you said Shikamaru was coming here. Best I go. We can switch later.” But even as she said it, the idea of leaving sent a sharp stab of pain straight through her heart. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave Boruto here without his mother. He needed her. 

“Hinata?”

“Sorry, I’m being silly.” She shook her head. Boruto didn’t need her here. He probably wasn’t even aware of her right now. Besides, he had his father. It was perfectly alright if she left.

Naruto’s fingers brushed against her chin, forcing her to look at him. He searched her face for something – some emotion Hinata couldn’t fathom – before she felt herself being pulled into his embrace. She sank into it. 

“You’re not being silly,” he whispered into her ear. “You’re being a mother and there’s nothing wrong with that. But we can’t just leave Himawari alone. Especially with these people still out there.”

Hinata choked. “I just want them both to be safe.”

“They will be,” Naruto insisted, tightening his grip. “I promise you, they will be. We’ll find out who did this and we’ll make sure they pay for it. But we have two children, Hinata, and our daughter needs her mother.”

“She needs her father, too.”

“I know.”

Hinata adjusted her head so she could see his face. She took in the sheen across his eyes and the way his skin lay pale and gaunt against his bones. There was a shakiness to his grip that he was trying to hide.

“You’ll tell me what Shikamaru says?”

“Of course.” 

She nodded her head. If Naruto said he would tell her, he would; they were in this together. She placed her hand on his chest, right above his heart.

“I love you.”

Her words were soft, earnest. She just needed to remind him before he buried himself so deeply in guilt that he forgot.

A smile, so small that if Hinata blinked she would have missed it, curled around his mouth and he pressed his lips to her brow. She could hear a deep intake of breath as he took in her scent and his arms constricted around her.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

Like always, her heart pattered against her breast forcefully upon hearing those words. Even all these years later, she still sometimes felt like teenager around him. It soothed her, the normality.

Hinata squeezed his arm before reluctantly pulling away. The earlier she left the more they could get done. Kissing her husband softly on the lips, she got up and moved lead feet over to her son. He looked so small in that bed; she hated to leave him.

But there was work to do and she didn’t have the luxury of staying. Brushing aside his matted blond hair, Hinata placed another gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Mama loves you, Boruto. You be good for daddy, okay?” There was no response from the boy and Hinata hadn’t expected one, though the knowledge did little to dull the ache. She kissed his forehead again, lingering so as to take him in. “I’ll be back soon.”

Hinata’s legs trembled as she fought her way up from the bedside and towards the door. Her feet were made of stone and moving forward was tantamount to crawling through molasses – heavy, slow, and left a bad aftertaste.

“Hinata.” Her body pulled taut, stopping just short of the entrance. Her head tilted towards her husband but she couldn’t bring herself to turn around.

“Yes?” The word stumbled as if it was ripped from her throat. If he asked she would stay.

There was a lengthy pause and just when Hinata was about to question him, he said, “Nothing.” Something like disappointment welled inside her. “Just…tell Hima daddy loves her.”

A smile ghosted her face. “I will.” Even though it was obvious that wasn’t what he’d wanted to say.

Hinata resumed her walk, her husband’s eyes trailing after her and burning into her back. She ignored it as she did the way her fingers dug into her palms. Everything was suddenly very loud, as if Boruto’s life support was trying to call her back. She ignored that too and stepped into the hallway.

With a soft click, the door shut behind her.

The silence hit her first. She hadn’t even realized how accustomed she’d become to the beeping and hissing. The whirring of Boruto’s ventilator was deafening in its absence and Hinata squeezed her eyes tight against the florescent lights of the waiting room, finding them abnormally harsh compared to the ones she’d just left. It was like stepping into another world, and she couldn’t tell if it was relief she felt, or guilt.

A nasty voice in her head said both had pretty good odds of being even.

The trip back up to the surface was no better. In fact, it wasn’t until she’d passed the last ANBU checkpoint that she realized she’d been walking at all. The general hubbub of the hospital was no different than any other day. Doctors went about their business as per usual and none of the patients appeared on the verge of panic. More than a few glanced at her with something akin to concern, but she wasn’t approached and was able to make her way unimpeded towards the exit.

Stepping outside was like being slapped in the face with a fish. Winter had arrived almost overnight and the loose jacket she was wearing did little to keep out the sudden chill. She shivered, taking in a deep breath that coated her lungs in ice and quivered some more. What she wouldn’t give for a cup of hot tea. A blanket too, would be nice, as would curling up in her bed and drowning out the world.

_Stop it_. Hinata mentally slapped herself _. You’re better than this. You can cry later. Your children don’t need you weepy, they need you strong. You’re a kunoichi; act like one._ She squeezed her eyes shut. _Act like one._

But it did little to drown out the voice in her head that begged for a simple moment alone to process the mess that had become her life. She was lightheaded, her breaths quickening as she entered the market district. The overwhelming scents of spices and fresh fish wafted under her nose, sending her stomach roiling. She hadn’t even reached the main square before she found herself stumbling into an empty alleyway, hand pressed to her mouth in an effort to stifle the sounds of dry retching.

A masked shinobi immediately appeared beside her.

“Hinata-sama?” The ANBU reached out to steady her, but Hinata halted his efforts with a raised hand.

Shaking her head, palm still pressed to her lips, Hinata ushered him away. She needed space. Reluctantly, the ANBU shifted back before vanishing entirely into the shadows. His chakra remained at the edge of her senses, tingling in sequence with the rest of her detail, but it was enough that Hinata could at least pretend to be alone.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, willing her heart to slow. It beat wildly under her breast and her hands shook from adrenaline. Resting her head against the cool plaster behind her, Hinata steadied her breathing.

_Calm down. Think. Form a plan._ Hinata took in another deep inhalation. _Form a plan. Himawari. Himawari takes priority. She’s too young to know what’s happening. She’s going to be scared. She’s going to have questions – ones I can’t answer. But I can’t just brush her off. She needs to know to be cautious. Just in case._

Hinata glanced heavenward. _Neji-nii-san, please, please, if you can hear me, help me._ Her hands moved to clasp together in something altogether too fumbled to be a prayer, but too deliberate to be anything else. _Please._

She stayed in the alley for a few more minutes before willing her feet to move and bring her back into the throng of early morning shoppers. There were less civilians out than normal, but the shinobi population more than made up for it. It took all her training as a Hyūga heiress to keep her countenance relaxed and reassuring. The civilians were wary, and their whispers were not as quiet as they assumed. Hinata could hear the busybodies spreading rumors, no matter that they all inexplicably stopped the minute they noticed her. She was greeted politely, and given too many flowers to count – ones that she discretely handed to her guard to take home – but it wasn’t hard to notice the hopeful, hungry eyes of people juicy for gossip. Hinata picked up the pace.

The road narrowed as she exited the market district and she allowed her body to relax as the crowd thinned and the whispers faded. One of her guards stumbled imperceptibly against a roof ledge and Hinata’s lips tugged into a frown. They were getting tired. She didn’t fault them, and for now the slip wasn’t a concern; it was doubtful the assailants would return so quickly. If they were smart, they would wait until Konoha’s guard went back down. All the same, she would have to have a talk with Naruto about the ANBU rotations. It wouldn’t do for them to get sloppy. She didn’t mind so much with her own surveillance – she could take care of herself – but with Himawari and Boruto’s security – _no_. Hinata wouldn’t accept sloppiness there.

_The children take priority._ It was an unspoken, but understood agreement Naruto and she had come to on the day Boruto – and then Himawari – had been born. Her husband’s position as Hokage somewhat complicated the matter, but she had faith in Naruto’s promises. Before they were husband and wife, they were mother and father, and the children always came first.

_But Boruto…he was attacked and we didn’t even notice. If they come after Himawari, they’ll have the advantage. Naruto’s skills are celebrated, but we have no idea what these people are capable of. And if they could take out Nu so quickly…_

Her hands started to shake from something other than the cold and she stuffed them in her pockets to try and hide it. _The ANBU aren’t going to be enough. They’re already tiring and it’s only been a day. Complacency has made us soft._ Not that that was necessarily bad; she loved that they could live in a world where they were allowed to get soft. But right now it was a disadvantage; something their enemies could exploit. _We have to get to them first. If we can head off another attack before they have a chance to regroup, Boru and Hima will be safe._

But Nu had already been slaughtered, and there was no reassurance that the retrieval squad sent to recover their bodies would find them, or even return at all. _Can I condemn another team to death just to protect my family?_ Her childhood training said yes, but everything else about her said no. It was her family on the line. She couldn’t just toss more innocents into the fray. But she was just one person and Naruto couldn’t leave the village so soon after such an attack. She shut her eyes again, her shoe making contact with a loose rock and sending it scuffing down the street. _Neji-nii-san, please, what am I going to do?_

The soft scents of hellebore and Kaffir lily tingled at the edge of her senses as she entered one of the more traditional residential districts. In the distance, rose the conical domes of the Aburame Hive. The entire compound was situated behind a pretty wood fence that’s only real purpose was to let others know they were on clan land. Windows were generally left ajar even in the winter, and the only compound with more flowers belonged to the Yamanaka. Faintly, Hinata could hear the familiar sound of buzzing and smiled despite herself. She allowed her tumultuous thoughts to smooth over into something more positive; one couldn’t enter the Aburame grounds and not feel instantly soothed.

It was Shino who met her at the door, Himawari already dressed and ready for her. The little girl stood clinging to her uncle, fidgeting back and forth in an effort not to run right to her. Hinata could see her feet shuffling in indecision. After a brief spell, Himawari seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it and she let go of Shino’s hand to run into her mother’s waiting arms.

“Mama!” She yelled, the word coming out in a puff of visible air. Her tiny arms reaching out to wrap around her mother’s neck.

Hinata embraced her with just as much fervor. She briefly met Shino’s shaded gaze before burying her face in her daughter’s hair. The mother took in her child’s fresh scent and relished in the feeling of Himawari’s arms around her neck. Her carefully erected Hyūga façade started to break. Pressure built up behind her eyes, but she stubbornly fought against it. Himawari couldn’t see her crying.

To Hinata’s credit her eyes stayed dry, but her daughter was more perceptive than she gave her credit for.

"What's wrong, mama?" Himawari asked. The little girl’s soft hands palmed her mother's face and Hinata found herself trying to form words around empty air. Her daughter was so innocent. For a moment, all she could manage was a smile.

"Nothing, baby,” she tried to assure her. “I just missed you so much."

She hoped it took. She hoped Himawari just accepted it. But the tiny pout on the six-year-old’s face said she was reluctant to believe her. The child’s blue eyes – so like her father’s – flickered and twitched as if she was watching something. It made Hinata’s gut twist into a sickening knot and she tried to widen her smile.

It seemed to work. Himawari grinned. "I missed you too, mama. Is Boru-nii home yet?"

The blood drained instantly from her face. It left her dizzy and she missed the way Shino jolted forward as if to catch her. All she could see was her son – her broken and bleeding son who– _no_. She took a deep breath and shakily shook her head. "Not yet, sweetheart. Boru-nii got hurt yesterday and he can't come home right now."

"Oh." Himawari eyed her lap and Hinata’s heart broke just the tiniest bit. She felt her daughter’s fingers reach up to play with her hair. It was a nervous habit the girl had picked up from Naruto.

"When can he come home?" Himawari asked, and Hinata’s mind raced to find a satisfying answer.

"Soon, baby,” she said after a second’s indecision, more hopeful than truthful. “He'll come home soon."

"How soon?"

"As soon as Tsunade-sama says he can," she answered.

"He's with Obaa-chan?"

"Yes, sweetie. He's with Obaa-chan and daddy right now."

"And Obaa-chan is making him better?"

Something strangled escaped her. "Yeah, Obaa-chan is making him better."

"Can we go see him? I miss Boru-nii."

"I–" Hinata started. She tried desperately to find a way to answer her daughter without disappointing her. Almost pleadingly, she looked to Shino. Her old teammate always knew what to say. Everything, that is, except for something like this. The Aburame’s posture was rigid and she easily picked up on the way his hands disappeared into the folds of his robe; he was uncomfortable. Hinata sagged. "Maybe later, honey, but right now we can't."

"But I wanna see him now.”

"I know, but Boru-nii needs to sleep. You don't want to wake him up, right?"

"No." Himawari fiddled some more with Hinata’s hair. "But I can see him later?"

"Yes, we can go see him later." Much, much later. Like when Boruto was awake and those horrible, _horrible_ machines were off and gone.

Himawari pouted. "Okay."

"Now say 'thank you' to Shino-kun," Hinata said, pointing her finger to the man who had very patiently waited for them to finish.

Himawari instantly brightened. "Thank you, Shino-oji-chan. I had lots and lots of fun!"

Shino inclined his head and a smile tugged at his lips. "You're very welcome, Himawari-chan. Why? Because we enjoy having you in our home."

Himawari giggled and Hinata felt just the slightest bit better. At least the girl was laughing.

"Thank you, Shino-kun," she said, pouring as much sincerity into the words as she could. She might not be able to see them, but she could certainly feel the ten or so Aburame guardsmen stationed strategically around Shino’s house.

"I was no trouble, Hinata-chan," Shino reassured. "Himawari-chan is always welcome here."

Hinata smiled. "I know, but still; thank you."

"You're welcome," Shino nodded. "Give our regards to Hokage-sama."

"You know he doesn't like it when his friends call him that," Hinata teased halfheartedly.

"He worked hard for it. It would be remiss of me to call him otherwise."

Hinata chuffed. "I'll let you take that up with him."

"I will. Perhaps it might help him remember me."

It was a good thing she knew him so well, or else Hinata might have mistaken his bland tone for seriousness. "To be fair, most of your face was covered."

"That is not an excuse."

Hinata chuckled in amused exasperation, when a tug at her blouse brought her attention back to Himawari. "Mama, what are you talking about? Why wouldn't daddy remember Shino-ji?"

"No reason, honey. It's just a very old joke."

"Joke?"

"Shino-kun…" Hinata shook her head ruefully. With another glance at her daughter, she said, "We shouldn't keep Shino from his day, though. Say good-bye, Hima."

"Bye-bye, Shino-oji-chan!"

The Aburame returned Himawari’s wave. "Good-bye, Himawari-chan. Have a good day."

"You too!"

Hinata reached forward to pull her old teammate a hug. Even after all these years, Shino was still rather uncomfortable with such public displays of affection, but they had been friends for long enough – and there was enough trust between them – for Hinata to get away with it. Shino embraced her back.

“Keep me informed," Shino whispered into her ear, and Hinata’s body stiffened despite herself.

“Shino-kun–”

"Just keep me informed.” He reiterated. “That is all I ask. Should you require anything…"

"I can come to you," she said, finishing the phrase each member of Team 8 knew by heart. Her eyes shut in a moment of relief, relishing the feel of her teammate’s unique comfort. Her boys had always looked out for her.

_Her boys had always looked out for her._ Quickly, she shook the idea away. No. She couldn’t do that to them. Not when it was so dangerous. _But…_

She retracted from the hug and gave Shino a grateful, if somewhat tumultuous, smile. Shino instantly caught it, but where Kiba might have pressed further, Shino allowed her the space to come to her own decision on what to tell him. That didn’t mean she missed the feeling of a few more bugs crawling into her hair.

Hefting Himawari up higher on her hip, Hinata bowed her head and turned to leave. Himawari’s ANBU squad quickly fell in with her own and, if she wasn’t mistaken, the Aburame clan members followed. In that moment, Hinata wasn’t sure whether to go back and hug Shino again or break down and cry. She did neither and allowed her daughter’s babble to keep her in check.

“Shino-oji-chan showed me the greenhouse, mama!”

“And, and Shiro likes Teenage Ninja Turtle Summons, too!”

“Sanko-oba-chan made dinner, and it was so yummy, but not as yummy as yours.”

And on and on and on, one thing after another. Hinata found herself latching onto the innocence pervading her daughter.

“Mama, are you listening?”

Hinata started, stopping in the middle of the street. “Of course I am, sweetie. You were telling me all about the stories you read.”

Himawari narrowed her eyes as if she didn’t quite believe her, but seemed to conclude her mother wouldn’t lie. She brightened. “Yeah! We read so many! My bum hurt at the end.”

“Oh, that is a lot.”

“Mmhm!”

The two continued into town, now filling with more people as lunch approached. If it seemed like there were more shinobi out than usual, well it was only to be expected. Hinata ignored the looks she got as she maundered her way through the market place. She made a couple pit stops to the grocer’s and the pharmacy, getting a few more items free than she intended, before hesitantly making her way into a red-roofed shop further out from the main road.

A ring resounded through the store as mother and daughter entered. No one else was there, though the front desk showed evidence of a recent purchase – a pen still situated with the cap off and a slightly mused stack of business cards laying haphazardly across the wood. A few kunai were missing from their cases. Hinata passed the aisles of equipment to the desk and, after a brief moment of indecision, rang the bell.

_Thump_ , _clang_ , _bang!_

Hinata’s eyes widened fractionally as the sounds echoed from out of the back room and she tightened her grip on Himawari subconsciously.

“Ow,” she heard someone mutter, along with a few choice curse words. Hinata’s lips pursed, and she chanced a peek at her daughter. Thankfully, the six-year-old was too busy admiring the weapons case to notice.

“Be right there!”

Hinata nodded, a light rose dusting across her cheeks upon realizing the caller couldn’t see, and let her eyes wander. Weapons sat displayed in their cases, out of the reach of over-eager genin, and only a few of the larger ones rested on the walls. There were a few shelves and bins situated around the shop, all of them piled precariously with non-lethal shinobi equipment. Pouches, bandages, wet stones, all arranged methodically on top of each other. A sign hung behind the counter advertising the various types of seals one could buy, as well as some of the services provided by the shop – sharpening, cleaning, miscellaneous weapon maintenance. Hinata almost snorted at the word. ‘Miscellaneous’ was really just a term used to give the owner free reign with someone else’s equipment.

“Tenten-oba-chan!”

Hinata attention shifted to see Tenten emerging from the back door. Her friend’s hair was mused and loosening out of their braids, strands falling in wisps around her face, and her clothes were wrinkled as if she’d slept in them. A streak of coal dust ran across one cheek. Her friend stopped as soon as she saw them, concern and sympathy warring on her face, but she quickly hid them under a bright smile.

“Hinata-chan, Hima-chan,” she greeted, walking over to embrace the two.

Himawari giggled from her spot squished between the two women and playfully tried to push her honorary aunt away. “Oba-chan~!”

“What? Do you not like my hugs, anymore?” Tenten teased.

“I was smooshed!”

“Well, I guess I can let you slide,” said Tenten. “Just this once.”

“You say that every time,” Himawari giggled, her little hands reaching up to cover her mirth.

“Well I mean it every time,” she replied, exchanging a grin with Hinata. Tenten rolled her shoulders. “So what can I do for you?”

“I just need to stock up,” Hinata said.

“Oh?” Tenten quirked an eyebrow. She gave her friend a critical once-over. “Which ones? Kunai, senbon, shuriken?”

Hinata took a deep breath. If she was really going to go through with this…“Everything.”

Tenten’s eyes widened and then instantly narrowed into slits.

“Right,” she muttered, and Hinata flinched under her gaze. “Just over here,” she beckoned, walking to the case beside the checkout counter.

Tenten crouched down to pull out a drawer and flicked through a few boxes before she found the ones she was looking for. Two scrolls filled with newly sharpened kunai and shuriken – fifty each – were placed on the counter, and quickly joined with a pack of senbon. It was a much smaller container, no larger than an incense box, and made of generic grey cardboard. Tenten checked the description on the side before handing it to Hinata.

“1590 ryo.”

Placing Himawari on the ground so she could grab her wallet, Hinata handed the money over. The exchange was brief, but just as Hinata made to pull away, Tenten’s hand whipped out to wrap painfully around her wrist. Hinata jerked, but didn’t back away.

Eyes flickering briefly to Himawari, Tenten pulled her friend in closer so that their noses were almost touching. Her breath tickled Hinata’s chin and the faint aroma of vinegar wafted off her clothes. Tenten must have been cleaning something.

“Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it,” Tenten hissed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hinata insisted, though the shameful heat along her cheeks betrayed her. She made a half-hearted attempt to take back her wrist without being too obvious, but Tenten’s grip set like a steel trap.

The shop owner rolled her eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Hinata. We’ve been friends too long for that.”

“I’m just taking precautions,” she said a little breathlessly, with a look on her face that was too expressionless to be truthful. “Nothing else.”

“Bullshit. Hinata, please,” Tenten urged, grip tightening and urgency coating her tone. “I’ve been up all night with those weapons. Something’s not right.”

Hinata’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” What else did these people have over them?

“Something’s just off. Please, just promise me you’ll wait before you go running off half-assed.”

“Mama?” Himawari asked from below.

“In a minute, honey,” Hinata said with forced nonchalance. She felt Tenten’s grip slacken and took the chance to pull her hand away. Leaning back in, she whispered, “Tell me later.”

“Hinata…”

Hinata wished she could tell Tenten what she wanted to hear. Tenten was her friend – had been her friend for years – and she couldn’t just lie to her, but there were other things to think about and her children’s safety took precedence over everything. “I promise not to do anything reckless.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?” Tenten sagged, her face screwing up in apprehension.

Hinata had no response.

Tenten sighed. “I’m going to trust you against my better judgment. Don’t make me regret it.”

Hinata reached out to squeeze her hand. She took reassurance from the warmth and callouses on Tenten’s palm. “I won’t.”

“Mama?” Himawari’s high-pitched call brought her attention back to her daughter. She smiled down at the girl and picked her back up to sit on her hip.

“I’m sorry, honey. Mama and Auntie Tenten just had to discuss something, but we can go now. How would feel about going to see great-grandmother?” She asked, hoping to distract the girl from asking questions.

Himawari gasped, her eyes going wide. “We’re gonna go see Grandmei?”

Hinata nodded. “Mmhm. Mama has to talk to grandfather about something so you and Grandmei get to have some fun.”

“Watcha gotta talk ‘bout?”

“Oh, just some very boring grown-up stuff,” Hinata replied, not missing a beat. She saw Tenten move out of the corner of her eye so that the woman was no longer behind the table. “Now, let’s say good-bye to Tenten. We don’t want to keep Grandmei waiting.”

Himawari shook her little head and beamed up at the other woman who was now standing in front of the two, smiling as if she hadn’t just agreed to let the Hokage’s wife embark on a potentially fatal excursion.

“Come back and visit me soon, okay Hima-chan?”

“I will oba-chan! I’ll come every day!”

“Every day? Well, now I’m really excited,” she said. “Now come here and give me a hug.”

Tenten embraced the girl, consequently embracing Hinata in the process. If she held on for just a little bit longer than usual or just that much tighter, neither woman said anything.

“See you later?” Tenten asked, pulling away and sending Hinata a significant look.

“See you later,” Hinata promised.

The mother-daughter duo walked out into the bright sunlight not a minute later, the weapons burning hot against Hinata’s thighs. She did her best to ignore the corrosive feeling, but her mind was a mess trying to integrate Tenten’s warning with her own half-formed plans. What could be so off-putting about those weapons that it would put Tenten on edge? The older woman loved weapons; anything new or different was usually met with a round of gushing. But fear? No, Hinata had never seen Tenten afraid.

She released a sigh and allowed Himawari’s voice to sooth her. Hinata had never been so glad for her daughter’s age. Any older and she wouldn’t have been as easily assuaged. Even now, she wasn’t convinced the little girl’s babbling was just because she was naturally talkative. If she didn’t know better, she would think Himawari’s nonsensical ramblings were done on purpose.

“Do you think Grandmei will have a tea party with me?”

“I think she’d love that, Hima,” Hinata replied as they rounded the last corner out of the marketplace and into northern clan territory.

A sprawling fence was the first thing she saw, only the tallest peaks of the mansion’s roof emerging from behind the wooden gate. Two guards stood on either side of the main entrance and Hinata could easily sense more guards stationed at random intervals along the inner wall. Her own ANBU had settled around the mansion, their chakra flaring in a friendly pattern, letting the Hyūga on duty know their intentions. The Aburame had stopped further back around the perimeter, still on guard but respectfully keeping their distance. It wouldn’t do to make the Hyūga feel as if they couldn’t be trusted.

Both Hyūga on gate guard bowed as she approached, their eyes boring into her’s, searching for any sign of falsehood. Apprehension oozed off them and she watched their Byakugan flare to life. The clan must be more anxious than she thought. Despite everything, something akin to pride niggled in her chest.  

“Hinata-sama, Himawari-sama,” the one on the right said.

“Iroha-san.” She nodded to him, “Hoheto-san,” she said to the other. Pulling herself up straighter, Hinata said, “I need to speak with the elders. Please inform them that they are to meet me in the head office immediately.”

“Of course, Hinata-sama,” Iroha made a hand signal and immediately another guard hidden behind the wall shot off. “They will be waiting when you arrive, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

The men bowed again and stepped aside, allowing them entrance.  

Hinata took a deep breath to calm her nerves and walked inside.

* * *

If Naruto were a lesser man he would have slipped. Shaky hands reached up to brush aside blond spikes, as he leaned back against the sofa in exhaustion. His vision swam, his throat ached, and there was a constant pressure in the back of his eyes he could do without. The reports lay in a discarded pile beside him.

He had maybe five or so minutes left before Shikamaru arrived. His advisor’s chakra itched at the edge of his senses, like the ticking timer on a bomb. Shikamaru wasn’t moving particularly fast, so Naruto felt relatively safe in assuming nothing had changed. A part of Naruto was relieved. The part of him that wanted to coat his arms in blood up to his elbows was not.

Naruto sighed and pushed the thought to the back of his mind, wringing his hands compulsively as if to wash the imaginary blood from them. They felt heavy with it – almost sticky even – though he was sure that was just the fatigue talking. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

Oh, he had tried!

It was really just very hard to close his eyes when every other sound was the whirling of a ventilator or the beeping of a heart machine. He’d spent most of the time he should have been sleeping counting each whistle. Between that and repeatedly scanning the area, sleep just never came. After an hour of tossing and turning he gave up.

The reports had still needed some attending to. At the very least, immersing himself in the facts and technicalities of the attack helped to drown out the surrounding noise. For a few hours, he was able to pretend everything was normal; the victim on the sheet wasn’t his son and the beeping was just that new-fangled clock on his bedside he had yet to figure out. For the first time ever, Naruto found himself wanting to study.

It provided a much-needed emotional barrier.

But the barrier was crumbling and Naruto knew it. Before, with the sun down and Hinata there, it was easy to pretend. Now? Not so much. His eyes kept straying and he kept having to go back and reread the same sentence over and over again because he caught himself counting in time with the machines.

Naruto strangled a groan. Maybe if he went outside for just a minute he could concentrate more. He tilted his body, ready to roll off the couch and ease the soreness out of his muscles, when Boruto wheezed and he disbanded the notion entirely.

Kiba’s report wavered in front of his eyes, the words swimming. Team Nu’s last relay sat in bold in the middle of the page, standing out against the otherwise intelligible script – not that Naruto really needed to read it again.

**_Ko._ **

**_Ku._ **

**_E._ **

**_N._ **

He knew they were already dead and beyond his help, but even though Hinata said differently it didn’t stop the fact that he was to blame. He should have sent out a more experienced team. It didn’t matter that Nu was one of the most talented scout squads they had after Team 8. It didn’t matter that Kiba had personally vouched for their competency not even a week ago. The fact remained that they were a new team and he should not have let them go.

But even that – even taking all of that in together – hadn’t been what kept Naruto awake. He’d been a shinobi long enough to know how to deal with unnecessary casualties. It wasn’t something he liked, but he knew how to push the guilt aside to be dealt with later. No, the problem was with the message itself.

**_N – Conditions clear_ **

Of all the codes in Konoha, why N? It made no sense. _Why say conditions are clear when they aren’t? Unless he meant Na and just pressed the wrong character._ Naruto tilted his head, considering. It certainly made more sense. Terrain unsafe was much more in line with the others than conditions clear.

A scowl slid across his face, stretching his whiskers.

_But they’re trained not to make mistakes like that! You can’t relay wrong information and this is definitely wrong. So why use N?_

Naruto’s vision blurred around the edges. It was simple katakana – much easier to use in life or death situations – and he couldn’t help thinking he was missing something obvious. It was probably the lack of sleep.

_That’s no excuse. You fought a war for three days straight and then beat Sasuke. A few hours without sleep is nothing_. He ignored the little voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Sakura telling him all about mental fatigue and a whole bunch of other useless information about stress and reading in dim light.

The katakana meshed together. Spaces shrunk and the explanations on the page disappeared. The entire document swam.

Naruto dug the base of his palms into his sockets.

_Stupid eyes._

Why the hell had he wanted this job again? He never went home. He never saw his family. There was enough paperwork that even his clones couldn’t keep up, and now he had to deal with the niggling worry that perhaps he was to blame for Boruto’s condition. Naruto heaved another sigh and allowed his eyes to slide over to his son.

Maybe he was still too young. He was only twenty-seven. That wasn’t very old. And it wasn’t like he’d been Hokage long yet; there was still time to give the hat back to Kakashi. They could just leave his face up on the monument until he was ready to take the mantle up again. Say, when he was thirty. It would give him time to be a better father, give his son time to adjust. And if he weren’t Hokage he could just spend all his time in here, without having to worry about the logistics and the politics and the consequences of his title.

His resolve faltered. It had sound preposterous last night, but in the daylight it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. So what if it was childish? It wasn’t technically running away if he was still in the village, right? And Tsunade was already helping. Surely Kakashi’s retirement could wait three more years.

A knock at the door interrupted his musings and Naruto immediately stiffened. He shot up from his position on the couch and attempted to straighten out his clothes.

“Enter,” he called out once he felt more presentable.

The door opened and ANBU Tori stuck his head inside. “Hokage-sama,” and Naruto flinched at the title, “Nara-sama is here for you.”

“Let him in.”

Tori bowed and moved aside to let Shikamaru through. He walked in, shoulders painfully straight and face a study in control, and waited at attention a little ways before Naruto. The door closed, a brief glow emanating from the walls as the privacy seals activated, and at once Shikamaru slouched into a more comfortable position. Naruto gratefully fell back onto the couch.

“Shikamaru.”

“Hokage-sama,” the man responded. His eyes flickered to the boy on the hospital bed, and then back to the Hokage as if asking if he really wanted to have this conversation here. Naruto met his eyes steadily.

_Troublesome_.

Shikamaru took a deep breath and pulled up a chair. With his shadows, he dragged a table between them and handed over a small grouping of files. “The latest from the retrieval squad. They’re still a few hours out from the Valley, but have yet to find any remains of Yagi’s seals. We think whoever attacked Nu disrupted her sealing. I had them lay down a new set to see if they can pick up anything left behind, but reports so far aren’t promising.”

Naruto hummed in acknowledgement. “And what are these?” He asked, pulling out Sai’s notes.

“Sealing diagrams. The prisoners were tattooed in fūinjutsu, and Tenten found similar seals on their equipment.”

“Do they know what for?”

“No, and they can’t figure it out. Sai said they were breaking a fundamental law of sealing, but as it stands the seals are inert. Tenten’s recruited both Sai and Karui full-time to help her figure it out, and Ino’s keeping an eye on the prisoners to see if they activate anything.”

“Which law?”

“Apparently, the seals just stop, like they’ve been cut in half.”

“Cut in half? How did they not blow up?”

“Beats me. Fūinjutsu is your thing.”

“I’ll take a look later, then. It doesn’t make any sense,” Naruto murmured, eyes lingering on the diagrams. “Has autopsy found anything?”

“Nothing so far. With Shizune and her team in the capital, and Tsunade and Sakura busy here, the number of people available to work is too small.”

“Shit,” Naruto slid a hand down his face. “How many bodies do they have left?”

“Eight.”

“ _Eight?_ ” Naruto stared disbelievingly. “They only had ten to begin with!”

“They’re too short staffed,” Shikamaru stressed. “You had this classified at A-rank. Without Tsunade, Shizune, Sakura or Ino, we just don’t have the numbers with that level of clearance.”

Naruto groaned. “Great, one more thing I need to talk to baa-chan about.”

“Could be worse.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“We could have no one.”

Naruto snorted. “Yeah, I guess that’s something.” He pressed an eye with the back of his hand. “And Ino can’t get anything out of the people we have in interrogation?”

“Nothing substantial. Either they’re very highly trained, or muscle for someone else. The only concrete thing we’ve managed to extract is that Boruto was indeed the target. So if you were hoping for a case of mistaken identity you’re out of luck.”

“Good thing I wasn’t holding my breath.” Naruto parsed through the papers, lost in contemplation. “These files – how many of them have been digitized?”

“A quarter, give or take – nothing that wasn’t already released to the public. We didn’t want to risk it after what happened to Chōjūrō last month.”

“Hacking,” Naruto scoffed.

Shikamaru hummed. “Only a few years ago and getting classified information from a Kage required a skilled infiltration team. Now, people can do it from the safety of their homes.”

“I don’t like it, but I don’t like having all this paper lying around either.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t know enough about this technology yet for me to want to risk it. If someone has been amassing undetected for all these years then I don’t think it’s wise to go taking chances on faulty tech. Sticking to what we know may be our best option.”

“And these files? This is a lot of paper, Shika – a lot of paper that can easily get lost. Can we afford to take that chance, too?”

“For now? I think we have to. I’ll keep it all at my house if you want, but I’d rather them have to put effort into getting here than just handing over everything we have.”

“Udon’s been telling me they’ve figured out a way to trace hackers. He’s been working on it with the techs in Kiri.”

“And I’m even less likely to trust that. If it turns out we’re wrong and this really was just an attempt at a ransom then there’s no harm in digitizing, but I’m not taking that risk with Orochimaru in the cards.”

It would be good bait, Naruto wanted to reply, but the fact of the matter boiled down to whether or not unreliable methods were worth the risk of strengthening their enemy. Frankly, at this point, the answer was a resounding no. He tilted his head, acquiescing to his advisor’s point.

“Alright, you and I will split the files between us. Keep nothing in the tower. Seal them under your bathroom floor if you have to.”

“So, where I put all the other confidential material you give me?”

“Exactly.” He flashed Shikamaru a prankster’s grin.

The Nara clicked his tongue. “Troublesome. I’m going to be moving some of it to the kitchen at this rate.”

“Behind the cupboard. Then when anyone walks in you can pretend you’re just searching for a snack.”

“Learn that first hand, did you?”

“Course. The kids have a sixth sense for that kind of stuff.” Naruto turned soft eyes his the prone son, and his grin slipped. “Always in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Aren’t all kids?” Shikamaru tried to jest, but it fell flat in the sudden stillness of the room.

“Heh, I guess,” but it wasn’t said with any of his previous mirth.

Shikamaru held back a sigh. He pulled out a small scroll from his jacket and deposited it on the couch. “The minutes from yesterday’s council meetings. The reactions to our statement were…mixed.”

Naruto _tsk_ -ed. “Mixed?”

“Most of them were in shock. Angry, too, and some panic on the part of the civilians, but nothing we couldn’t predict. The shinobi took it better, but they’re anxious for someone to blame, and you and I both know they won’t buy the ransom story for long – not if we want to keep up the heightened patrols. We’ll have to give them something soon, but I’m afraid of what might happen if we let it be known we suspect Oto before we have anything concrete. You know there will be at least one hardheaded idiot to go running off in some half-ass attempt at revenge. We don’t need another incident on top of this one.”

“How long before they start asking for more?”

“A week – two, maybe. We’ll have to raise taxes to pay the patrols overtime and compensate for the lack of missions. Without a reason as to why, people will start to complain.”

“Dammit. So what you’re saying is we have a week to figure this out or else lower our defenses and leave ourselves open to attack.”

“Pretty much. On the bright side, everyone is pretty riled up on your behalf. By time the statement went out, the clan heads had placed their shinobi on alert and the commanders had already drawn up the emergency rotations for your approval. We have shinobi volunteering left and right for extra shifts.” He waved the spreadsheet filled with names about and set them aside for later. “Iruka and I also agreed to shut down the Academy until Monday, just as a precaution.”

Despite the weight sitting on his chest, the knowledge that the village was so willing to help sent a wave of warmth tingling throughout Naruto’s body. “And the Assembly? How did they respond?”

“Panicked, as I said. They calmed somewhat when I told them those responsible were caught, but I’m afraid it wasn’t enough. That the emergency protocols haven’t been rescinded is making them nervous, and those nerves are making them tetchy. The Senju Preservation Society is chomping at the bits over the ‘environmental destruction of protected land,’ and the Builders’ Guild needs a detailed summary of the damages lest they start demanding a higher budget. With the lockdown still in effect, we’re also going to need to tell the merchants something that will keep them trading. At this rate, our economy is going to plummet because people are too afraid to leave their homes. On top of that, Ambassador Takehani is demanding an explanation for the daimyō.”

“This isn’t going through the ambassador,” Naruto stated.

“My thoughts exactly,” his advisor agreed. “I took the liberty of contacting Ikkyū an hour ago. He said he’d be happy to talk at your convenience.”

The Hokage ran a tired hand down the side of his face. “Thanks, Shika.”

“Oh, don’t thank me just yet. Reassuring the Assembly will be the easy part, but the news of Boruto’s kidnapping really shook the populace. We need something that will keep them calm. The gossip is getting _bad_.”

“How bad?”

Shikamaru’s face twisted. “Bad. Most of the shinobi with us yesterday knew to keep their mouths shut, but you know gossip. Enough always gets out before you can put the lid on. That we said he’s expected to make a full recovery helped, but from the way some people were talking you’d think it was the opposite. No one saw Boruto get taken and the theories are running wild. We have everything from Root’s return to the spirit of Senju Hashirama calling him into the forest. Now, I have Intelligence monitoring all communications, and no one’s been allowed to leave since you closed the gates, but we can’t keep that up for long if we want to maintain trade. Once we bring it down, those rumors will spread like wildfire outside Konoha.”

Naruto groaned. “That’s the last thing we need. How long do you think we can keep the lockdown for?”

Shikamaru shrugged helplessly. “Another day. Maybe.”

“Shit.” He grasped at his hair in frustration. “How could no one have seen anything? There has to be at least one witness.”

“The police force interviewed everyone who had contact with him yesterday and they all said there was nothing out of the ordinary. The bakery owner was the last person we could determine he had contact with. As far as he could tell, the only problem Boruto had was being short of change. He promised to come back and pay after school, but…” _But he didn’t make it to school._

It sat heavy between them, hanging amongst the all too loud echoing of Boruto’s life support. The bakery – at least the one their kids liked to frequent – was only a few short blocks away from the Academy. It was in a largely residential area, filled with young families just starting out on their own. Any one of them could have seen something had Boruto been attacked there.

“So either Boruto was kidnapped on his way to school and none of them noticed–”

“Or someone did notice and allowed it to happen,” Shikamaru finished with the air of someone who’d long since come to this conclusion and it’s implications. Did a spy make sure there was no one else around or–? No, he wasn’t going to go there. There was no proof.

Naruto’s eyes hid storms. “We have a list of every spy in this village. What are the chances someone managed to slip by?”

“With your abilities, normally I’d say none, but we have seven people in prison, and ten bodies in the morgue. The likelihood of that many getting in without help is maybe one in six-billion.”

“And the possibility that it’s one of the spies we know of?”

“Even less. I’ve sent Ibiki the files on all the spies we actually know about, but none of them are from villages anywhere near Oto, nor have any of them shown any change in routine.”

“Our luck’s not that good anyway,” Naruto grumbled under his breath. “So it’s possible we’ve had a spy or a group of spies operating inside the village for gods know how long, planning gods knows what.”

“Sounds about right.” He clenched his teeth. How could they have let this happen?

“Fuck.” Naruto groaned, something between a sigh and a sob, burrowing his face in his hands with a great expunge of air. “What am I going to do, Shikamaru?”

“You’re going get up and finish figuring out what to tell the civilians. Then you’re going to figure out what to tell the other villages, and then you’re going to find these bastards and make sure they never see the light of day again. Sound like a plan?”

“Can we skip parts one and two and go directly to three?”

“No. So, the civilians?”

“We need to reassure them that their safety is our priority. Have squads Zu and Ja do a sweep of the major trading routes. Confirmation that the roads are safe should keep the traders content.”

“Ah, and if they’re not satisfied we can always offer our services to those hesitant to travel.”

“Push for it if you have to. I don’t want to have to go back to the daimyō asking for more money. If we can get the funds for the builders without having to rework the budget or go to Ikkyū, all the better.”

“We’ll have to limit it to C-ranks, then. We need the jounin and specialists here, and we can’t afford to take our eyes off the borders. If anything, this will be enough to show the council that increasing the patrols is worth the cost.”

“We’re already going to be stretched thin as it is,” Naruto sagged, flipping through the top folder containing the names of shinobi currently on active duty. “Combined with everyone already at the borders and on defense, we’re only going to have a thousand or so shinobi left. Knowing the merchants, it won’t be enough.”

“We could ask for help from the Union, and mixing in our genin will increase numbers. If we have them complete joint missions it will double the available shinobi and increase safety, not to mention reaffirm our trust in our allies. Plus, it might give those green-eyed brats some experience.”

“The genin have been getting restless.”

“I think you mean rusty. The last chuunin exams were embarrassing.”

Naruto’s lips twitched. “How would you know? You slept through them.”

“So did you,” Shikamaru countered, and Naruto just flashed his teeth unapologetically. “Though this does raise the question of how much we want to release to the Union. You know it’s entirely possible if we do have a spy it’s one of theirs.”

“Yeah, well I’m trying not to think like that.”

“Can you afford to?

“I’m not sure I can afford anything right now,” Naruto remarked, flicking a hand in emphasis. “But if I can’t trust them who can I trust? I have to assume they’re innocent, Shika, or it’ll only be a matter of time before we’re right back to how things were before the war.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well I’m not exactly jumping with joy either,” Naruto groused. He rubbed at the whiskers on his cheeks. “Besides, I doubt any of them are behind this.”

So did Shikamaru, but that didn’t change the fact that the possibility was there. “I still think it’s important we keep some of our information close to the chest.” Like the fact that there might be spies in the village that they couldn’t account for – spies that, however unlikely, could belong to an ally.

_Former ally._

Naruto was of the same mind. “We’ll keep any information on how Boruto may have been taken to ourselves.” Mainly because as of now they didn’t _know_ how and that was a far more dangerous prospect should it get out. “If the spy is one of theirs we can’t afford to tip them off.”

Shikamaru agreed. “Once we know more we can reevaluate what we release to them.” He took a deep breath to center himself. “And…Boruto’s condition. How much should we–”

“It’s none of their business,” Naruto cut in hotly.

“They’re going to ask.”

“Let them. The only thing they need to know is that the attempt was unsuccessful. If they keep persisting…” _it’s because they have stock in the information_.

“I understand,” Shikamaru bowed his head, forcing himself to ignore the gooseflesh prickling his arms. One kidnapping attempt and their peace dangled by a thread. “You know if this goes the way we’re expecting it might be best to issue an Alert.”

“Shika– ”

“Specifically, it might be in our best interest to issue out a Yellow Alert. Whether a member village had a hand in this or not, it doesn’t diminish the help we’d be able to get otherwise. It would also reflect well on the minor villages if they felt they were being included on something of this magnitude.”

Naruto winced imperceptibly, but otherwise remained stoic. The Alert Protocol system was a relatively new procedure implemented after the war. In an effort to maintain the still tenuous peace, all suspicious activity targeted at a village was to be reported to the Union. Allied shinobi would be placed on standby to offer aid or information, while their respective villages would then be prepared to be put on the defensive should they too come under attack. The severity of the issue determined the level of the Alert. It was a symbiotic measure, but one Naruto, perhaps naively, never thought he would have to enact.

Idly, he wondered at what Kakashi would do.

“I’m going to have to call a Summit,” he said, talking through threaded fingers. “If we’re issuing an Alert they’re going to want more information. We can keep our suspicions about Oto from the Union – for now at least – but the Kage are another matter. We’ll need to tell them. If they found out we kept vital information like that it could be disastrous.”

It could prove more than disastrous especially if they were wrong and the other Kage were similarly attacked. “When do you want to meet?”

“Today if I can. We’ll have to forego meeting in person, but I can’t leave the village and I doubt they’re going to want to either.” He rubbed at his eyes tiredly. “Think you can arrange it?”

“ _Tch_ ,” Shikamaru clicked his tongue. “Can a man sell sand in Suna? I can try, but don’t go expecting miracles. Unlike you, I can’t do the impossible.”

“If it was really impossible, I wouldn’t be able to do it,” Naruto replied with a brief impish grin.

“Troublesome,” Shikamaru drawled, disbelievingly. He stretched his neck and checked the clock. “I’ll try for noon. The time difference between Kiri and Iwa is going to make it tricky.”

“Whatever you have to do,” the blond conceded. “Thanks, Shika.”

“Thank me when it’s over,” he grumbled. “My next meeting with the Civilian Assembly is in two hours. If I can get in contact with the Kage before then we should just be able to make it.”

“The Assembly? I thought I–”

“Yeah, well I figured I could take care of them while you met with the shinobi.”

The Hokage started. “What? Shika–”

“I don’t know if you’ve realized it,” Shikamaru interjected, “but you look like hell. You’re more likely to scare the civilians in the state you’re in than reassure them. The Council will be more understanding. In fact, you might even spur them on if it looks like you haven’t slept.”

“I haven’t.”

“It shows.” The Nara scratched his head; he’d tied his ponytail too tightly this morning. “Look, you’re already bogged down and it’s only been a day. If you try to do everything, you’ll collapse and the village will collapse with you. I’m volunteering to do extra work. Take it.”

“You talk like you haven’t been running around, too,” Naruto muttered under his breath, but Shikamaru had a point. He was exhausted and spamming out shadow clones when the village could be on the verge of another attack was not a good plan.

“Yeah, but at least I slept last night.” Whereas it was plaintively obvious Naruto had not. “I’ll take care of the civilians. You deal with the shinobi.”

Naruto slumped in defeat, gratefulness warring with reluctance. “Alright, thank you, Shika.”

“Hm,” Shikamaru accepted. “I’ll send out a missive for, say, three hours? You still have to talk to Ikkyū, and it will give you at least another hour if we manage to contact the Kage.” He glanced up from his notebook to see if that was acceptable and Naruto nodded.

“Yeah. Three hours should be enough time.”

“Right.” He jotted the information down – more out of habit than any real chance of forgetting – and pulled the spreadsheet back out from underneath the pile. “The Command schedules. We have about sixty teams out on missions in the general forces alone. Sai and Soku have put all outbound missions on standby, but we’re still down six ANBU squads plus a whole company, and that doesn’t even take into account Nu, the retrieval squad, or those medics we sent with Shizune to the capital.”

Naruto hid a wince. “How long do we expect them all to be gone?”

“The general forces are too varied to count, and the money they’re bringing in is too valuable to risk recalling them. Of the others, Shizune indicated they had everything under control and can return within the next two days, so that’s one point in our favor, but Kyo Squad is out of reach on assignment with Kumo, and unless the Raikage is willing to hand over his dirigible, we’re looking at at least two weeks. Same goes for E Squad. On the other hand, Fu is finishing up in Nami and should return by week’s end. Ro Squad is with the daimyō, and both Yu and Ra are on rotation at Union headquarters. All are expected to return within the two-month allotment. Gamma Company has been on border patrol since last week and are scheduled to be gone a month. We’ve already placed them on high alert.”

“Who in Gamma was supposed to rendezvous with Nu?”

“Ku Squad – Team 3, but they reported no sightings or attempted communications. They asked if we wanted them to search for the remains, but I don’t want to leave the border unmanned. We’ve already had a breach and I’m not willing to risk it. The retrieval team will hopefully be enough.”

_Or just more dead_ , Naruto thought, before quickly shaking it away. He couldn’t afford to think like that. “I can’t recall Ro without insulting Ikkyū, but maybe if I ask the Union _very nicely_ they’ll let us switch details with another village.”

“You mean if _I_ ask the Union,” Shikamaru interjected. “Or at least have Mibuna do it.”

“Mibuna? You think she’s up for it?”

“She was your genin. And we need someone we can trust to stay there and manage everything in the event things turn sour. I just need to go over the report with her and she can do the rest.”

“You sure? I can’t have you running on fumes, Shika.”

“Better me than you. And they’re expecting me tomorrow anyway. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. The only problem I foresee is time. We have to speak to the Kage first. If we can’t get them to meet today we’ll have to postpone informing the Union, which will only delay any help they might be able to give.”

Naruto groaned into his hands. “Almost makes me wish we could ignore that rule.”

“Seeing as Konoha was the one to propose it, I don’t think that would set a very good precedent.”

“No, but it would make me feel better.”

“Probably, but it wouldn’t do your image any favors. And considering your image affects your politics…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Good image, good politics, good work.” Not that he wasn’t proud of his work, it was just that maneuvering the world of politics would put the strain on anyone, something he really wished he’d known when he was younger. No wonder the Great Nations had adhered to isolationism for so long. Frankly, it was just so much easier.

“Exactly. And the more people who like you,” which, as far as Shikamaru could tell was the vast majority of the world, “the more people willing to offer you help.”

“And the more people willing to help the faster we solve this.”

“Right. So we follow protocol and speak to the Kage first, then the Union. Hopefully they won’t put up a fight about Yu or Ra, and if they do we might have settle for a compromise. Getting one back is better than nothing. We can’t afford to recall Gamma Company. Their intel could prove invaluable, and it’s been made clear that our borders aren’t as secure as we thought. But once Shizune returns, and we have Kyo, E and Fu back in rotation, it will be enough to ease up on the other teams. Right now our emergency plans have companies Sigma, Psi, Zeta and Upsilon alternating throughout the village and the surrounding area. That’ll be fine for a week or two, but the longer they’re out the slower their response time if something happens – not to mention all the missions we have pending,” and here he indicated to the village diagram showing the current distribution of shinobi. “Thankfully, once everyone is back we’ll have enough shinobi to assign three squads to each sector. We can then rotate them out every few days and free Psi and Zeta back up.”

Naruto nodded along with the suggestion, and Shikamaru took that as permission to continue. “Ga and We are circling the borders, and we can put Squads Ji, Zu, and Gu around the Academy and Clan districts for added protection.”

“And the hospital? Boruto?”

“O Squad. Did you want to add more?”

“No.” Naruto shook his head, deep in thought. O Squad consisted of three teams and even he knew that was excessive in light of their low numbers. “We can’t afford it. Who’s with Himawari?”

“Re-3 and a host of Aburame.”

Naruto’s head bobbed in thought and he stroked his chin. “Re-3 might be better stationed near the city. Are U-1 and 3 available?”

Shikamaru ran his finger down the list, stopping once he hit their names. “Both just returned from missions last week with no injuries. They should be good to go.”

“Alright. Place them on rotation. Have U relieve Re-3, and move U-3 over to Himawari. Hinata’s team can stay.” Mainly because Hinata’s team was his team and he trusted her skills enough not to bog down resources by giving her another one.

His advisor jolted down the changes and closed the file. With steady fingers, he removed the last folder from the pile and placed it between them, opening the beige flap. Pulling out two identical stacks and a redacting pen, Shikamaru leaned in. He pushed one group over towards Naruto and kept the other.

“The latest report from the Hunter Unit,” Shikamaru uttered, plucking out the five-page transcript from the pile. “I placed another copy in there for you, but–”

“Burn it.”

“What?” Shikamaru’s eyes widened.

“Burn it.” The Hokage’s gaze was piercing. “Tell Kiba to destroy his copy. Redact everything except dates, team formation, and time of death. We’ll go over it again once the recovery team makes their report. Restrict autopsy to Tsunade, Sakura, and Ino. I’ll keep Kiba’s report in the vaults.” He held up the much thicker document he’d received directly from Kiba earlier.

Shikamaru sat speechless for a moment, just staring at his leader. When it finally struck that Naruto was being serious, he gave his head a jerky bow and muttered, “Sir.” He tentatively reached for the copy he’d pushed forward earlier and, with a small katon jutsu, set the pages aflame. Within seconds, all that remained was a small pile of ash.

Naruto nodded, and handed over Kiba’s assessment for Shikamaru to read. He’d been through it too many times already and Shikamaru would have it memorized after a once over anyway. “Yagi’s seals may have been destroyed, but we know they made it to the rendezvous point. These people knew exactly where they’d be.”

“The spy?”

“Perhaps,” the blond muttered. “Or they were followed. Would make sense if there was more than one. The border patrol did say they never checked in.” He shuffled around with the papers, searching for something. “Do we have the barrier team’s latest assessment?”

“Yeah.” Shikamaru pulled out a small scroll. “Everything’s here. They recorded no unauthorized entrances or exits.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I know, which begs the question of how they got in–”

“And for how long.”

“–and for how long,” Shikamaru agreed, “and how they got out without raising any alarms?”

“Shikamaru, we can’t just–”

“It’s the only logical conclusion.”

“You’re not just talking about spies anymore, Shikamaru,” Naruto said with tense solemnity. “What you’re suggesting is treason.”

His advisor answered back with thin lips.

Naruto covered his mouth with the tips of his fingers. That was just the news he didn’t want to hear. “You’re sure?”

“No, but it would explain how no one noticed Boruto’s abduction. We could have a homegrown problem on our hands here.”

“Shit.” His eyes scanned the report. “Alright. Send the barrier teams’ files to Anko. Ino and Ibiki are too bogged down for them to go through them all now. If we have a traitor in the barrier squad or the ANBU, who knows how many unknowns have slipped in.”

“Or slipped out.”

“Or slipped out.” He buried his head in his hands. “If there is a traitor then they’re not only responsible for my son’s kidnapping, but the deaths of eight other shinobi.”

“Not only that,” Shikamaru said with dawning realization, “but if there is someone getting more spies passed the barrier then we can’t be assured information hasn’t already spread beyond our borders. I thought we had a handle on everyone who’s left the village recently, but if the barrier squad is compromised…”

“Fuck,” Naruto mumbled. His eyes clouded over and he stood abruptly from his chair, almost knocking over the table. “ _Fuck_!”

“Naruto!” Shikamaru jolted forward, his eyes straying to Boruto in a subconscious bid to make sure he hadn’t been disturbed. The child remained unresponsive.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Naruto asked, though Shikamaru had an inkling it wasn’t actually directed at him. “If there are other spies…How am I supposed to keep this quiet? If the rumors get out–”

“If they get out then it’s only because they’re already out.” Shikamaru placed a calming hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll rotate the barrier team. Rifle through the ANBU. We’ll make it seem like we need them somewhere else.”

“And if people know how easily we were infiltrated?”

“They won’t know,” he stated with conviction. “I will personally go through the barrier teams’ files if I have to.”

“And you think that will that be enough?” His hand flew about desperately towards his unconscious son. “I can’t have people knowing how badly he’s hurt, Shikamaru.”

“They won’t. I swear to you, they won’t.” Shikamaru regarded Kiba’s original report still resting on the table between them. He sighed. “Look, whatever’s going on we need to keep our heads cool. Stomping around isn’t going to help us.” He pointedly applied pressure to Naruto’s shoulder and waited until he felt some of the tension leave his friend’s body. “Now there weren’t that many people around when you told Kiba to send out Nu, and if there’s one traitor, then it’s possible there are more. Just say the word and I can have yesterday’s search teams sent to interrogation.”

The Hokage dislodged himself from Shikamaru’s hold and collapsed back into his chair, hands shaking. “No, not yet. If there is a traitor – _traitors_ – I don’t want to tip them off. Have Anko and her team look through all their files first. If anything flags, send them to me.”

“Understood,” Shikamaru said, returning much more cautiously to his own chair. He then picked up Kiba’s report for a closer look at Nu’s information. He took in their names, their skills, their times of death, and paused. “Three minutes,” he muttered, horrified. “Who takes out a five-man ANBU team in three minutes?”

Naruto met his gaze, purple eyes sharp and searing. Something akin to iron settled in Shikamaru’s stomach.

“I don’t know,” he replied, “but I intend to find out.”

* * *

“Tsunade-sama set him up on a series of broad spectrum antibiotics early this morning. She found evidence of an infection setting in and is hoping to head it off before it evolves into full-blown sepsis.”

“Caused by the debris, no doubt,” Sakura remarked, as she checked the lab results Yajirushi had handed her. The stale air of her office made it hard to breathe, to the point where she’d had to loosen the collar of her blouse so she didn’t suffocate. Were she not dealing with confidential material, she would have gladly opened a window. “His healing factor is already working overtime. I’m not sure how well his body will be able to fight off a septic attack.”

“That was Tsunade-sama’s thinking as well.”

“How are his vitals now?”

Yajirushi’s mouth twisted unpleasantly as he ran through the chart in his hand. “As well as can be expected. His body temperature has leveled off to around 38 degrees Celsius, an improvement from his earlier temp of 39. Heart rate is a little low, and his blood pressure dropped during the night. Tests indicate it’s due to the infection rather than any of his injuries. We had to adjust his ventilator to account for the depression.”

“We’ll have to monitor that then,” Sakura mused, making a note in the margin of Boruto’s lab results. “If it continues to drop we’ll have to figure out a way to bring it back up without exacerbating his injuries.”

“Should I prepare a series of vasopressors?”

Sakura bit her lip, contemplating. She leaned back into the leather of her chair and mentally ran through the list of Boruto’s medications. “He’s already on antiepileptics.” She shook her head slowly. “No, not yet. They could cancel each other out and I don’t want to risk it unless we have no other choice.”

“Understood.”

The Head Medic began rifling through the pile, tossing a few miscellaneous documents onto the keyboard. “Do you have his recent thoracic scan?”

“Ah, it’s…” the nurse dug into the folders clasped under his arm. “Right here.” He placed the papers into Sakura’s waiting hand. “The effects of the blast lung are causing some concern. They’re not as bad as we’ve seen on some civilians, but considering his age and relative size…”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Sakura brushed him off, her attention focused on the scans. “I’m banking on his lowered blood pressure to keep him from hemorrhaging again, but that has its own complications.” She glanced severely up at her subordinate. “We need to keep a close eye on his blood pressure and oxygen levels, understood? If it goes down any further, alert me immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She traced the outline of Boruto’s chakra pathway. Her brow furrowed and she sat up further. “What’s this buildup near the Death Gate?”

“Buildup?” Yajirushi leaned over to view the chart.

Sakura placed her finger over the diagram of his chest. “His chakra levels are too high around his heart.”

“Could it be due to the damage to his abdominal cavity? We know his pathways took the brunt of the explosion, and his heart suffered less damage than his stomach. It’s possible his chakra is starting to pool there first until his abdomen is fully healed.”

“If that’s it, it’s not good. Boruto’s chakra capacity is already above average for his age, and his regenerative rate is twice that of a normal shinobi. The pathways near his heart will be too small to contain the amount of chakra he’ll be producing. If it leaks through, his heart will be the first organ affected.”

“And his Tenketsu were already damaged. They’re still too weak to hold up under the strain.”

“Exactly,” Sakura said. “Make a special note to keep an eye on this. I don’t want to have to take him back into surgery so quickly, but if this gets any worse we might not have a choice.”

“It would help to bring in a Hyūga if that’s the case.”

“It would,” Sakura mused. She bit the end of her thumbnail. “The difficulty is finding a Hyūga with enough medical know-how to pinpoint any impending problem before it becomes too late to prevent damage. They’re not exactly known for allowing their family members into the medical corps.”

Yajirushi shuffled uncomfortably, indicative of a person about to offer up unwelcome advice. “Doesn’t Hinata-sama have a background in medicine?”  

Sakura’s fingers twitched against the desk. “Not extensively. Her area is mainly in herbalism.” Besides which, Sakura wasn’t about to involve her friend in something so personal. Knowing Hinata, the woman would keep her Byakugan on until she went blind, and that wasn’t even taking into account the emotional toll it would take on her. She was already under enough stress. At the same time, Yajirushi had a good point. Hinata was far more skilled in the area of medicine than most others of her clan, no matter that it wasn’t as refined as a real medic’s. She also had the required security clearance, something few in her clan could boast. Sakura let out a resigned sigh. “I will…broach the topic with Hinata. See if she’s up to it.” Which she undoubtedly would be. Sakura would if she were in her position, and she felt she knew her friend well enough to guess at her response.

She’d have to add monitoring Hinata’s health to her list of things to do.

“Has the swelling under his skull gone down at all?” She asked. The numbers recorded from the intracranial pressure monitor were not as promising as she’d hoped considering his healing rate, but neither were they especially bad.

Yajirushi appeared to share her sentiment. “Somewhat. The pressure is still too significant at this stage to make any assumptions, but if it continues to decrease at its current rate Tsunade-sama hopes to bring him out of the coma within the next week.”

“And the damage?”

“It’s too early to tell, Sakura-sama.”

“I thought so.” They’d managed to offset most of the damage while he was in surgery, but the longer the swelling remained the more they would have to account for when he woke up. Sakura didn’t relish that conversation.

“At least his bones are healing nicely. And his ears,” Yajirushi remarked, attempting to add some positivity to the report.

Sakura snorted, not reassured. “Yes, at least there’s that. Now if only I could say the same for the rest of him.” She picked up the oldest file on her desk. Its pages were yellowing around the edges and it gave off the distinct smell of musk that all papers seemed to accrue after years of obscurity. A light genjutsu prevented Yajirushi from seeing its contents. A the top of the page, right below the red CONFIDENTIAL stamp, was a title set in bold:

**Newborn Report: Uzumaki Boruto**

“Sakura-sama?”

“Has the damage to his eyes made any progress?”

“H-his eyes, ma’am? Tsunade-sama didn’t say. I thought they had been healed during surgery.” The hulking man swallowed harshly into the silence of Sakura’s thoughts.

She nodded absently, her attention fixated on the old report. “They were.” The problem was that Boruto was descended from a dōjutsu wielding clan, where any damage could prove catastrophic, and his newborn report indicated he was positive for the Byakugan.

It had lead to no end of bafflement for the medics authorized to view the test results. Boruto’s eyes were blue and pupiled, and showed no distinct signs of his mother’s dōjutsu. Tsunade-sama had even ordered the test be redone three times before accepting the results. The only real anomaly in the blood work had been a group of unknown markers that didn’t show in either Naruto or Hinata. They still didn’t have the technology necessary to interpret the genes, though Sakura certainly had a few theories of her own.

She could only wonder at what problems might arise if his eyes were damaged in any way.

The page began to wilt and she flicked it between her fingers to stiffen the paper, catching the document under the sunlight in the process. A slight glimmer caught out of the corner of her eye from the top of the document, and vanished as soon as the paper was righted. It was Tsunade’s signatory chop: the stylized slug with a five-

Sakura’s brow furrowed. She flicked the paper again. On unsure legs she rose from her chair and – much to the confusion of Yajirushi – strode over towards the window. Slowly, so slowly it was almost imperceptible, she tilted her hand so as to view the document in the sunlight.

She paled.

“Oh gods.”

Yajirushi stepped forward, hands raised to catch her as she stumbled back into her chair. “S-Sakura-sama!”

“Stop.” Her eyes were wild, flashing between the document and the window. She took a deep shaky breath, and focused green steel on her subordinate. Yajirushi stiffened. “Get the Hokage. Tell him it’s an emergency.”

“W-what?”

“Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I don't have much practice with battle scenes so I hope the opening worked out well. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought or what you think can be improved. Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Bye!


	4. I Wouldn't Raze a Country to Its Knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! Welcome back. The same warnings and notes apply as those from the first chapter. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“Uchiha-san.”

“Gamadoro.”

“A message from Naruto-sama. He says it’s urgent.”

Sasuke grunted. “Considering the time, I would assume so.” He held out his hand for the note while scrutinizing the doors of Orochimaru’s most remote hideout. They were visually unassuming, composed only of basic metals and did not deserve the level of study he was exerting, but Sasuke was well aware of Orochimaru’s paranoia and had no desire to be caught unawares by the likes of his former teacher.

Gamadoro’s mouth opened with an echoing squelch, one that reverberated throughout the otherwise silent cavern, and soon the wet sensation of toad saliva coated Sasuke’s hand. He made a mental note to clean his gloves.

The message was short, much shorter than the previous one, but it still sent at rush of foreboding throughout his body.  

_ANBU dead. Sector H-48. BZ12-Hoko-92._

He didn’t dwell on the first part for long. It was no use thinking about dead shinobi. Sector H-48 was where he was supposed to rendezvous with the team. That was far too specific a spot for an enemy to just get lucky. So there was either a spy involved somewhere, or they were followed. Possibly both. The end, however – the Uchiha didn’t know what to make of that. They weren’t a part of any code he knew, nor did they appear to be coordinates. His brow crinkled in thought.

“Uchiha-san.”

“Hmm?” Sasuke broke out of his musings and let his eyes rove around to flash idly at the toad. “You’re still here?”

Gamadoro puffed up in displeasure, but was far too used to the Uchiha’s attitude to comment. Instead, he simply eyed Sasuke disinterestedly and said, “I was not finished, Uchiha-san. Naruto-sama has another message for you.”

“Oh?” He turned his body fully. Now he was curious.

Rather than answer, Gamadoro simply extended his tongue once again and deposited a tiny black box no larger than a thumb into Sasuke’s palm. The shinobi gave the strange item a questioning once over.  

“What is this?”

“According to Naruto-sama, it is an encrypted long-range communicator.”

“A what?”

“An encrypted long-range communicator. It is the newest device out of the Tech Division. Naruto-sama is worried about the delay in correspondence and wishes for you to use this in order to relay your information.”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, flipping the thing over in his hand. “And how am I supposed to use it?”

“It is keyed to a specific frequency and is encoded. Naruto-sama has given you your encryption key.”

“Ah.” The numbers. “Can this be traced?” He asked, because otherwise he would stick to summons.

“Unlikely.”

“‘Unlikely’ is not the same as ‘no’.”

“And my ability to find you quick enough in the event of an emergency is just as limited. ‘Unlikely’ is the best you’re going to get.”

“Hm,” Sasuke’s lips twitched in what might have been approval. “Tell Naruto I’ve received his message.”

“Of course,” the toad bowed his head. “If that is all, I will return to Konoha.”

Sasuke nodded and the summon disappeared in a quiet puff of smoke. The Uchiha stared at the spot for a moment as he allowed the scroll to catch fire and disintegrate. It was hard to believe this box could actually allow him to reach someone in Konoha, but he’d trust Naruto on this. He exhaled deeply and pocketed the device. No use losing it.

He turned back to the dented doors and reached out his hand to open them. The damaged steel moved with little effort. Light flooded into the entranceway, displaying the dark corridor of one of Otogakure’s hidden labs. The concrete was overgrown with weeds and rot, and a pungent odor pilfered through the air. It wafted under his nose; a combined scent of musk and bodily fluids, and, though he couldn’t be sure, he would bet money that it wasn’t water pooling along the stone.

His Sharingan flared to life as Sasuke began a cautious walk deeper into the depths. It was one of the smaller compounds, situated closer to the border of Yama no Kuni and used almost exclusively as a way house for traveling Sound shinobi. Sasuke had only been here twice before, each time briefly. It had been one of those places Orochimaru had deemed unnecessary for his training and had, as such, steered him clear of. As a teen, Sasuke hadn’t put much thought into it, but he was older now, and much wiser to the machinations of his teacher. Orochimaru didn’t build way houses – he didn’t care for his shinobi enough – but he did build labs, and he was particularly skilled at hiding them beneath a façade of innocence.

The halls he was walking down now were the obvious ones. These were the ones he had seen as an immature child. He knew that to turn left near the end would lead him towards the bunks, while turning right would bring him into a lounge. If he instead chose to keep moving forward, he would end up in a small kitchen not even large enough to fit a full genin team. The size was understandable if taken at face value, but Sasuke wasn’t interested in such obvious bluffs.

Konoha and her allies had spent years searching for Orochimaru. They had looked in every laboratory and compound. Sasuke himself had personally lead searches throughout Oto no Kuni. Nothing. All the obvious places were abandoned and rusting, but this half-forgotten hut on the edge of the country pulled at Sasuke’s senses in a way it hadn’t so many years ago. He could see the chakra in this place now, flowing throughout a matrix of seals he couldn’t recall seeing before, and he made a mental note to copy them down for Naruto to study. Unlike his teammate, Sasuke was no expert in fūinjutsu, but that was alright because he was an expert on chakra. It flowed through everything and seals required it in order to function. If Orochimaru was hiding something here, all he had to do was follow the matrix.

Sasuke ignored the flickering pulses of energy as it moved through the weeds and vines growing around him, and instead focused his eyes on the floor. As far as he could see it was just normal stone, albeit very wet and covered in animal feces. Still, he continued on, his suspicions growing with each step. The compound was too small to be worth its purpose. 

He turned left into the bunks but found nothing out of the ordinary besides some filth and broken beds. The lounge was likewise the same. Perhaps a few books were sprawled out as if the reader still planned to return, but on the whole nothing looked out of place. His frustration building, Sasuke moved onwards into the kitchen and stopped.

Dirt and dust filled the room in an even coating of grime, and there was a plate left over in the sink still covered with grease. Sasuke internally grimaced at the thought of opening the fridge, its contents no doubt rotten and decayed. He moved his head around the room slowly, both dōjutsu active as the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something didn’t add up. The room appeared untouched, but clouds of chakra sat heavily in the air.

It was almost enough for him to wish for a Hyūga or an Aburame, but of course they were all either a country away or dead at the border, so it was of no use wishing. Reflexively, Sasuke’s fingers curled around the little black box Gamadoro had given him.

His eyes scanned the kitchen again, centering on the floors and walls, but the room was so saturated with chakra it was hard for them to focus. Blinking did nothing to stop the irritation. Well, if his sight wouldn’t suffice, perhaps smell would.

“ _Kuchiyose no Jutsu_!”

A puff of smoke and a large snake appeared before him, her body swaying coyly and her green eyes gleeful.

“Sssasssuke-sssama, you called?”

Sasuke rolled his eyes at her obvious eagerness and pointed to the floor. “I need you to find a hidden entrance. Search for the smell of decay.”

“Ohhh, fantassstic,” she sang. Her forked tongue quivered as she gathered odor particles in the air, and she slithered about the room pleased as punch. A quick circle around the space lead her straight to the fridge where she stopped and twitched.

“Decay isss everywhere, Sssasssuke-sssama, but the mossst isss here.”

“Yes, well I assume the idiots left the food to perish. I meant human decay.”

“Yesss, Sssasssuke-sssama. Human rot isss here.”

Sasuke started. “What?”

“Human rot. I sssmell it.”

Damn. That meant he had to get close to the thing. “Thank you, Naga. You’re dismissed.”

“And my fee?”

Sasuke sighed. “What do you want?”

“The job wasss easssy. A sssingle drop of your blood will sssufficcce.”

The Uchiha didn’t even bother with a reply; he just bit his thumb and allowed a drop to settle onto the snake’s waiting tongue.

“Mmm, deliccciousss,” she said, shivering with pleasure. “Until nexxxt time, Sssasssuke-sssama.”

Naga disappeared in the same manner she appeared leaving Sasuke alone with the filth. He made quick strides over to the odious appliance and focused both his dōjutsu on it. The thing was even worse up close and it was completely laced with a dark cloud of chakra. The mass was so dense, Sasuke almost missed it, but no, there it was: a tiny seal on the handle. It was a blood seal if Sasuke’s experience with said seals was anything to go by, but it was so interlaced with separate strands of chakra that it made differentiating them almost impossible.

“Damn.” He supposed blunt force would do the trick, but undoubtedly Orochimaru had placed any number of traps against it. That left the only other option – tricking the seal.

Sasuke slouched imperceptibly on his heels.

“This is going to take a while.”

* * *

The longer Naruto kept silent, the higher Sakura’s anxiety rose. Acid burned at the back of her throat and the uncomfortable heat of her office had condensed into a stifling mass that made it hard for her to breathe. She desperately wished to open the window, but the confidential documents strewn about her office made that impossible.

Her hands convulsed around Boruto’s report, crinkling it loudly. Naruto’s face was inscrutable, something so rare she could count the number of times she’d seen him like this on one hand. It scared her – this stranger in her friend’s body, and the longer he sat there the worse it got.

“Please repeat that, Sakura-chan.” His voice was devoid of any inflection and it made Sakura’s heart pound so hard against her chest it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it.

“This document is a forgery,” she began, her tongue unusually thick as she once more showed him the copy of Boruto’s newborn screening. “See here,” she pointed to the upper corner of the paper, which, to Naruto, looked just like all the others. “Now, if I hold it just so under the sunlight,” and she moved the document over a bit to catch the natural rays coming in from the window, “my chop appears.” And indeed, where there had once been a blank space, now a tiny stylized symbol of a slug appeared in the upper-right hand corner.

“This symbol is my personal seal. I put it on every official document in the hospital. It means that I am responsible for the accuracy of the information. But Naruto,” and she looked him dead in the eye, “I never put this seal on Boruto’s screening. When he was born, Tsunade-sama was the head of the hospital. Her seal was the one on Boruto’s files, not mine. Which means–”

“We have a spy in the hospital,” Naruto finished. Sakura could only sag back into her chair and nod.

“Yes; one clever enough to know about the seals, but not to use the correct one. Whoever they are may not even realize it changes with each new director.”

“Or didn’t think you would notice.”

“That too. My seal is remarkably similar to Tsunade-sama’s. Enough so that a quick glance wouldn’t catch it. Even I had to examine it carefully.”

Naruto bobbed his head slowly and Sakura itched to know what was going through his mind. Her own imagination was spinning at the implications and she couldn’t fathom what he was thinking.

“Are there any others?”

Sakura sighed. “Yes.” She picked up six more files and turned them around for him to observe. “Your family and mine. I wouldn’t have even noticed the changes to ours if I hadn’t spent so much time filing during my apprenticeship. Yakushi-sensei’s chop was particularly detailed, and the forgery was _dangerously_ close.”

Naruto’s eyes narrowed. “Dangerously? You’re not thinking Kabuto, are you?”

“Why not? It makes sense.”

“Too much sense. He knows he’d be the first person we’d drag in. Never mind that he’s forbidden from entering the hospital.”

“Like that would stop him,” Sakura snorted. “Frankly, I’m wondering why you haven’t dragged him in already.”

“You know why I haven’t.”

“Do I?” Sakura asked blithely. “I’m starting to wonder.”

“I can’t just arrest him without a reason, Sakura-chan.”

“You have plenty of reason,” she scathed, making no effort to hide her distaste. “He’s an S-rank medic and former traitor with ties to both Orochimaru and the Akatsuki.”

Naruto debated whether or not to remind her that she was married to a man with a similar epithet, but thought better of it. He took a deep breath. “He’s done nothing so far to raise any suspicions.”

“I’d say this was suspicion enough. And need I remind you that he did spend the majority of his childhood as a double-triple-and-quadruple agent. I’d be amazed if he slipped now.”

“But I can’t use that as an accusation. Kabuto wasn’t the only spy pardoned after the war and there are at least a hundred foreign shinobi living in Konoha right now. If I brought him in without cause, I’d have to do that with everyone else, and then we might as well just rip up all the peace treaties and make confetti out of them.”

“I’m not asking you to suspect him without reason,” Sakura stated, exasperated. “But Kabuto has the means, the knowledge, and the history to at least raise a few flags. He was a loyal follower of Orochimaru, for gods’ sake, and don’t you go telling me Orochimaru isn’t at the top of your list of suspects.”

Naruto raised a brow. “How did you–”

“Oh please, give me a little credit.” She shrugged her shoulders. “A child with the genetic potential for a powerful dōjutsu and incredible chakra reserves was abducted in broad daylight without even a hint of forewarning. I know very well Orochimaru was declared MIA after the war, never mind that bullshit excuse that he was pardoned and allowed to return to Oto. If a man like that was able to escape our grasp and then given ten years to plot I’d be an absolute idiot not to suspect him.”

“Well when you put it like that…”

“Kabuto is the best tie we have to that maniac. If nothing else you should at least send someone in to interrogate him.”

“Talk to him, you mean. I can’t just throw him into Ino’s line of fire.”

“So give him to Anko. You know what they’re like when they’re in a room together. I’m sure she’d love the opportunity.”

“I’m sure she would, but I wouldn’t relish the complaints from the builders when I have to explain to them why there’s another building in need of restructuring.”

Sakura snorted. “ _You_ wanted to be Hokage.”

“Yeah, well now I’m kinda wishing I could give Kaka-sensei the hat back.”

“Naruto,” Sakura murmured, expression morphing into one of shock and concern. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?” Naruto looked to the floor, finding the wood to be particularly interesting. “If I wasn’t Hokage I wouldn’t have to deal with this shit. I could stay downstairs with Boruto where he needs me. Hell,” he threw up his hands, “I might not even be in this situation at all!”

“You don’t know that,” his friend reasoned. She got up from her desk and walked over to stand at his side, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. “If this was about him being the Hokage’s son, you can bet I wouldn’t have found a forgery of something as obscure as his newborn screening.”

“You don’t know that,” Naruto scoffed, throwing her words back at her.

“You’re right, I don’t,” she admitted. “But I do know that if you weren’t Hokage, you’d be throwing yourself into the investigation anyway. Probably with less favorable results.”

“I just–” he broke off, dragging pleading blue eyes up to peer at the woman who had become a sister to him. Sakura kneeled down to take his hand. “There is so much shit I have deal with because of this. I can’t even sit down and hold his hand because there are so many goddamned reports I have to read through. Interrogation is up to their ears in useless information, five shinobi are dead with no explanation, autopsy is moving slower than a damn snail, and now I have to worry about spies in a village where I thought I had a handle on who I could trust. And, to top it all off, what I really want to do is just tell everyone that I quit!”

“Naruto-”

“I want to put him first,” Naruto whispered, his voice raspy and clogged. “I want to tell the village to wait, but I’m the Hokage and I have to put Konoha first, even before my own son. What does that say about me, Sakura-chan? What does that say about me as a father, or a leader? Maybe…maybe I’m not meant to be Hokage.”

“Stop.” Sakura’s voice was hard and unyielding, her eyes narrowed with conviction. “You’re not allowed to doubt yourself like that. Uzumaki Naruto doesn’t doubt himself just because things get a little hard.” The medic shuffled herself around, reaching out to clasp his fake hand so that both were firmly in her grasp. She gave them a slight shake. “You are a wonderful Hokage, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your friend. You’re always working – always giving a hundred-and-ten percent of yourself to this village and everyone knows it. They feel safe under your leadership. You have the respect and admiration of millions of people, and you earned every bit of it. And as for being a father,” she squeezed his hands, “your children love you. They adore you. They know that if they need you, you’ll do everything you can to be there.”

“No they don’t,” Naruto disparaged. “Boruto’s all but said he doesn’t expect me to be home, and Hima’s gotten so used to me being gone that she considers my presence to be a cause for celebration.”

“That doesn’t mean they love you any less,” she said. “They’re young, and they don’t understand just how hard your job is. But they are proud of you. I see it every time I visit. They know they can come to you if they’re in trouble. While I won’t say it wouldn’t hurt to work on your time management skills a little bit, that doesn’t take away the fact that you love them, and they love you, and they know it. So don’t you dare doubt yourself over something so silly as thinking you’re a bad father or a bad Hokage. You are amazing at both, and the village would be lost without you at its head. So I don’t want to hear any more nonsense about quitting or giving Kakashi-sensei back the hat. Got it?”

Naruto smiled tremulously. “Got it.”

“Good.” She let go of his hands and leaned back against her desk. “Now what are we going to do about Kabuto?”

“I will… _talk_ to the other orphanage attendants.”

“And?”

“And I will see what they say and go from there.” He took in Sakura’s expression. “I do have people watching him, Sakura-chan. Just because I’m willing to forgive doesn’t mean I’m naïve.”

“I know you’re not, all I’m saying is that letting Ino or Anko have a go at him can’t hurt.”

“And if I focus all my energy on him while letting the real spy loose, then what?”

Sakura scowled. “If he’s the real spy then that just means you took preemptive measures and caught him quickly.”

“Doesn’t help me if he’s not the spy. You have a whole team of people with better access to those documents.”

“And I will investigate them. But if Kabuto is the spy, then it doesn’t hurt you to bring him in now.”

Naruto heave a sigh. “We’re not going to agree on this are we?”

“Probably not.” She leaned further against the desk. “You said you have spies on him?”

“Yeah. Kakashi-sensei set them up after the war. Technically, he’s still on parole, but his record’s been clean since he was discharged from prison.”

“I still say giving him access to kids was a mistake.”

“You’ll have to take that up with Kakashi-sensei. Besides, he always sends in his reports on time, and the kids’ psych evaluations are all in order. There’s no evidence he hasn’t been completely honest about his intentions.”

“I still don’t like it. And I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”

Naruto’s forehead puckered. “You can throw people pretty far, Sakura-chan.”

“You know what I mean.” She heaved a sigh. “But my distrust for Kabuto aside, _someone_ has managed to sneak confidential material out of the hospital.”

Naruto bit his lip. “I don’t think Kabuto would miss something as important as using the wrong chop.”

“He could be using a proxy. He’s not allowed in the hospital, remember? Not unless it’s an emergency. Just because he knows what to do doesn’t mean his accomplice does.”

“I feel like that would be the first thing an accomplice would be briefed on.”

Sakura shrugged. “Not necessarily. Especially as mine is so similar to Tsunade’s. The only difference is her’s has the Hokage emblem and mine doesn’t. Frankly, the chop is so small even we get them mixed up sometimes. And it’s not like we regularly check any of Yakushi-sensei’s old documents. Honestly, I can see the margin of error.”

“Alright, say you’re right and it is Kabuto using a proxy. That would mean we have two traitors with access to confidential medical documents, both of whom are most likely in league with Orochimaru.”

“And let’s say you’re right and it’s not Kabuto, but someone else spying on the hospital. They could be in league with anyone, either giving the information to Orochimaru or some unknown party who has yet to make themselves known.”

Naruto ran a tired hand down his face. “I’m not sure which is worse.”

“Me neither.” She reached up to rub her brow between her fingers, squishing the diamond on her forehead and only serving to make her head feel worse. “And you haven’t sensed anything recently? No negativity or anticipation or, hell, even fear?”

“No,” Naruto reluctantly admitted. “When Boruto was taken I was so focused on finding his signature I sort of ignored everyone else.”

“What about the last few days?”

Naruto scowled. “I have to actively be searching for negative emotions, Sakura-chan. It’s not just something I’m constantly doing. Don’t get me wrong, I sweep the village every few weeks just to be sure, but–” He paled, blood draining from his face so rapidly it was a wonder he didn’t faint.

“Naruto?” asked Sakura, pushing forward in concern. “What’s wrong? Naruto!”

“I’ve got to go,” Naruto said, breathily. In a daze, he lifted himself from the chair and, ignoring Sakura’s increasingly panicked calls, raced out of the room. He bounded out of the hospital and across rooftops, paying no heed to his scrambling guards.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he chanted as he thundered into his office. _I didn’t–they couldn’t–_

With frantic hands, Naruto pushed aside empty ramen cups and unfinished paperwork so that a portion of his desk was left clear. He bit off a piece of skin from his thumb with more force than was necessary, letting blood bead along the extremity as he slammed his hand onto the surface. Instantly, a black seal carved itself onto the desk before vanishing and revealing a hidden compartment.

Naruto wrenched open the wood and pulled out a small black book that looked as if it had seen better days. He flipped open the cover, allowing his fingers to flitter through the pages in a desperate search for information.

“June, September, November. 102, 103, 106, 107.” He mumbled the months and years off under his breath, desperately hoping he was wrong.

He reached the last entry.

“August 31, 108.” The day after Sakura took over the hospital from Tsunade. 

Naruto almost collapsed. With shaking hands, he put the book back in the compartment and sealed it up. Mechanically, he righted the ramen cups and placed the unimportant documents back where they belonged before slowly sinking down into his chair.

 _Spies_. There were _spies_ in his village.

Intellectually, he knew this. Sakura’s evidence was convincing in and of itself, and he and Shikamaru already had a list of known spies sealed up in his desk at home. It was practical; not every country was a member of the Union. Even he was guilty of sending out more than a few of his own, but…

These spies were unknown. They’d gone undetected for at least a year. They’d infiltrated the hospital. They’d infiltrated his _office_. They’d managed to affect _his_ ability to protect the village. How…how could they possibly have managed that?

Genjutsu? No, he’d long become immune to anything shy of Sasuke’s Tsukuyomi, and even that only worked occasionally. And unless someone was stealing into his house every night to erase his memory, he doubted it was some sort of medical mind technique. Naruto rubbed his forehead. Not genjutsu, not irojutsu; maybe some sort of cursed technique? It certainly bore thinking about. Kakashi would probably know more on the matter. But what else? He needed a Plan B. A kinjutsu? Maybe. Either that or some sort of fūinjutsu.

 _F_ _ū_ _injutsu_ _. Tenten found unknown seals on the weapons. Ino found them on the prisoners._

But could seals do that? In all his research, Naruto hadn’t found anything remotely close to a mind-altering seal, at least not one that wasn’t directly administered to a person, and Kurama would have certainly alerted him to something like that. But Naruto was also knowledgeable enough in the art not to put it passed the realm of possibility. Seals could do almost everything.

 _So, some sort of kinjutsu or a seal._ He glanced about his office warily. _If it’s a seal it could be anywhere, and if it’s a kinjutsu it could also be anywhere._ He needed something more to go on.

 _They’re breaking a fundamental law of_ _f_ _ū_ _injutsu_ _._

Naruto took in a deep breath, attempting to center his thoughts by spreading out his senses to blanket the village in a way he hadn’t for almost a year. Fear buffered against him, and wariness, and hints of malevolence in the direction of T&I. Naruto brushed passed them all, directing his attention to the edge of the village, in a nice little enclosure that housed the Konoha Orphanage.

He searched through the entire compound, looking for any clue to his suspicions. Once or twice he felt a brief flash of something – anger, disgust – but it was such a pittance he chalked it up to a childish squabble. The object of his search displayed nothing.

Kabuto was a void of negative emotions.

With a growl, Naruto spun his chair around so that he could clearly see the green roof of the Konoha Hospital in the distance. Further beyond that, the main gate of the orphanage stood out starkly against its neighbors. Much as he tried to stop it, Naruto felt his blood bubble at the sight and he shot out of his seat so forcefully it slammed into the desk and sent papers flying about the floor.

 _It might not be him_ , he admonished himself. _Don’t do something stupid. You’re the Hokage now. You can’t just fly off the handle like child._ The truth in that statement only served to make him angrier.

He needed a distraction. He needed a distraction that would get him answers. He needed a distraction that would get him answers _right now_.

_The seals just stop, like they’ve been cut in half._

“Stay here,” he barked to the ANBU stationed about the room. They stilled reluctantly, but there was no arguing with the Hokage’s tone and so hesitantly remained in place as Naruto vaulted from the window.

The blond took it slow at first, but Shikamaru’s report echoed in his brain. Ideas coalesced into questions, his emotions taking control as he altered his pace into a run, feet pounding against buildings as he approached a small red-roofed shop off the main street.

He entered the building at a sprint, taking long strides passed shelves adorned with weaponry. Twisting behind the counter, he wrenched open the door displaying an EMPLOYEES ONLY sign and entered a small side room filled with wet stones and welding tools. It was a cozy room, shaded in reds and browns, and littered with weapons in need of attention. Naruto ignored them all in favor of a worn tapestry. It was of good quality, but showed signs of wear and tear. The colors had dulled over time and anyone else would have regarded it as nothing more than a half-hearted attempt at decoration.

Naruto bit his thumb again and smeared his blood across the sword depicted in the picture. He then flared his chakra in a rapid succession of _bright, muted, long, short, bright, short, muted_ , _hold_ , before the sword began to glow a faint blue light. A seal appeared across the thread and where there had once been a tapestry, now stood a metal door. He walked through quickly, leaving the seal to reset, and soon found himself in a sprawling underground compound filled to the brim with weapons and technology.

Shinobi raced to and fro, only pausing in their actions to salute their leader. Naruto just barely remembered to reply to their greetings as he let his feet carry him down to level six – The Research Division.

The faintest scent of vinegar wafted from the room at the end of the hall, its only occupant a double-bunned woman slouched over an array of weapons. Her hair was askew and her posture weary, but she continued working with a steady hand born from years of practice.  

“Tenten.”

The kunoichi shot up from the table, grease stains visible on her cheeks under the white light, and hastily drew herself up.

“Hokage-sama,” she said. “I don’t have anything new for you yet, but Sai–”

Naruto waved his hand dismissively. “I know. I need to see the seals.”

“O-of course,” she responded, startled somewhat by the abrupt nature of the request, but didn’t argue. “I have one of them here,” she said as she lifted a small blade off the stainless steel table.

For all intents and purposes, the tantō was as normal as any other. Unadorned and functional, it hardly looked like the type of instrument that would worry Tenten. The only thing interesting about it was the shape.

Tenten pointed to the tip. “This style is called a kubikiri. I’ve rarely seen it used in combat simply because there’s no sharp end. Most weapon users consider it too impractical. The blade,” she drew her index finger down the inner curve, “is on the inside rather than the outside, and it’s really only used at ceremonies. When people _do_ use it to fight it’s more of a finishing tool. Your opponent is already down and you use this to lope off the head. Hunter-nin have been known to carry them sometimes.”

“Hunter-nin? Someone sent hunter-nin here?”

Tenten waved his concerns away quickly. “No, no. I mean, I guess it’s possible, but we really don’t think that’s what happened. Hunter-nin usually have a very strict arsenal. Sometimes there are one or two deviations depending on the person or village, but they’re all pretty much the same. The only thing that made us think Hunters were the kubikiri, and even they went out of style decades ago.”

“Can you think of any other reason?”

“Not off the top of my head,” she admitted. “Personal preference, maybe, but we have four of them from four different people, all of whom are related. I could make that argument for one or two, but four is pushing it even taking into account family preference. It’s not like this style is designed for combat. The only way they could make this work is if they were fast enough to get inside your guard at the correct angle to drag the blade across with the inner edge. And trust me, that’s difficult. It would be much more practical to use a sharp-tipped blade.”

Naruto’s leg bounced erratically as he thought. “And they don’t have a bloodline limit, right? Could they be using the seals to change this?”

“Not that we could find, and, again, it’s possible, but unlikely. From what I could tell there’s some sort of stabilizing seal overlapping a transmitter seal, all looped around the most convoluted density seal I’ve ever seen, mixed in with a bunch of other seals I couldn’t determine. Other than that, it’s a pretty standard weapon.”

 _Shit._ Naruto leaned in closer to the weapon to study it, though his knowledge was limited. Weaponry was not his forte. He would just have to trust Tenten’s judgment. “And the seals are on the blade?”

“ _Tch_ , I wish. At least that would make sense. They’re on the grip,” Tenten corrected. “The only thing I’ve been able to determine for sure are the stabilizers, but that’s so basic anyone could see it. Just channel a little chakra and they should appear.”

Naruto followed the weapon mistress’ instructions and channeled a tiny trickle of chakra into the grip. Almost immediately a complicated array lit up the leather bindings. The Hokage waited to see if anything else would occur, but the tantō remained otherwise normal. There didn’t appear to be any sort of blood seal, and the density seal remained strangely inert, but what really puzzled him was the way the matrix just cut off around the pommel, as if someone had ripped it in half.

“This doesn’t make sense,” he mumbled.

Tenten snorted. “Of course it doesn’t. If it did we wouldn’t be in this mess. Sai gave me the lowdown on what Ino found and I’ll eat my kunai if they’re not connected. The only problem is we can’t figure out what that connection is. You don’t just break every law on sealing without reason.”

“Well there’s no blood seal so we know it’s not specific.”

“Yeah, if there were it make our lives a whole lot easier. And this is for just these four people. I haven’t even started on the others. Those seals are almost the exact inverse of these, which just doesn’t make sense. I can’t figure out how no one’s blow up yet. These shouldn’t even be stable enough on an object let alone a person.”

“And yet we have seven people in prison covered head-to-toe in them.” Naruto mused, raking his eyes along the pommel. There was something there, something he was missing. He leaned in to get a closer look and almost stopped breathing.

“Naruto?”

“These are Uzumaki seals,” he whispered throatily. _What the fuck? Kurama what is this?_

**Your guess is a good as mine, brat. I know a lot of things, but seals aren’t one of them.**

_You’re no help._

Tenten blanched. “What?” She leaned in closer to get a better look, but couldn’t see anything even remotely Uzumaki about the design. There were no obvious swirls or carefully constructed chaos to the matrix. In fact, it was decidedly precise – elegant even. All the Uzumaki seals she’d seen were a mess of illogic. Her brow pinched. “What makes you think they’re Uzumaki?”

He pointed to the five transmitter seals broken in half along the pommel. “It’s a hidden swirl. The grip acts as the center of the spiral with each seal point acting as connectors. I’ve seen a few in what my mom managed to salvage from Uzushio, but nothing as complicated as this one. I don’t even know what some of these do.”

“The Uzumaki were supposed to have destroyed their library.”

“Enough members escaped. Who knows what level they were all at or what they managed to sneak off with. In their prime, the clan was said to be able to win battles before the enemy even knew they were there. It took three villages to take them down.”

And wasn’t that a sobering thought.

Tenten scrutinized the innocuous little blade and tightened her jaw. This gave her a lot to think about, and none of it good.

“Tenten, I’m declaring everything you discover here S-rank classified. Only you and Sai are to have access to these weapons. Reported anything you find directly to me. Understood?”

Jerkily, Tenten nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Has anyone else seen these?”

“Just my team. And Karui. Do you want me to remove them?”

Naruto bit his lip. Did he? Removing Tenten’s team would only prevent them from finding answers quickly, but at the same time he really didn’t know who he could trust. So which would it be: speed or trust?

And then there was Karui. Like Temari, she was considered a foreign ambassador, but had lent her hand in enough times with the weaponry department that in a normal situation her aid wouldn’t have raised eyebrows. Only this wasn’t a normal situation, and so Naruto was left with the question of whether he could afford to take the risk of technically allowing a foreign kunoichi access to sensitive material?

_She has a daughter here. A daughter who is friends with Boruto. She wouldn’t do anything to put them at risk._

**_Karui’s first loyalty is to her village.  
_ **

_Her village is allied with ours_.

**_For now, but how long do you really expect this peace to last?_ **

_She’s married to Chōji._

**_Kunoichi have done less for their village._ **

_She loves him. She loves her daughter. She’s our friend._

**_She’s Kumo._ **

_She’s an ally. She can be trusted._

**_And Tenten’s team can’t? You trust the foreign kunoichi over your own shinobi?_ **

To that Naruto had no response. Did he trust Karui over his own shinobi? Yes. No. He knew Karui. He’d been at her wedding. He’d been to her house. Hinata got lunch with her all the time. And, push come to shove, he knew her loyalty was to Kumo. If she was going to be spreading information, he knew where it was going. She was an ambassador. She was a known entity.

 ** _Well,_** the voice mused, condescending and not unlike a day years ago at a waterfall in Kumo, ** _if nothing else, her daughter is here. That’s enough incentive to toe the line._**

_You’re despicable.  
_

**_I’m you._ **

The voice retreated back into the depths of his subconscious and Naruto was left with an expectant Tenten and a table full of weaponry. He sighed. “We can’t risk alienating the Raikage. He’s bound to want her in the loop, and she’s good with weaponry. It’s possible she’s seen something like this before. If you can keep her with the rest of your team they can work on the other equipment while you and Sai focus on these. If anyone has a problem with it, send them to me,” and he would straighten them out. If they still had a problem, he’d send them to Ino.

“Understood. I wonder if Sai’s had better luck?” She mused.

“I believe I have, Tenten-san.”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Naruto and Tenten inched around to see Sai standing in the doorway, two tantō in his hands, with an expression on his face that seemed to war between pleased and pained. In his hand he carried a similar weapon, this one slightly smaller to account for a different owner.

“Sai,” Naruto nodded his head. “You have something for us?”

“Indeed, Hokage-sama. It’s a puzzle,” he said as if it was supposed to explain something.

“We know it’s a puzzle, Sai, that’s why we’re confused,” Tenten said with a hint of exasperation.

Sai didn’t blink. “No, I mean it’s literally a puzzle.”

“What, like jigsaw pieces?” Naruto questioned, his nose scrunching as he attempted to understand.

“Exactly. See this?” He shifted the tantō around so as to show them the hilt, and held it close to their faces. Naruto and Tenten leaned in to try and catch Sai’s meaning, but found nothing.

“Uh, what are we supposed to be looking at?” Naruto asked, his face twisting in what could only be termed embarrassed bemusement. He’d spent years learning every seal trick in the book – he shouldn’t be confused, dammit!

“You don’t recognize it?” Sai asked. “It’s really quite obvious.”

“If it was obvious, we’d recognize it,” Tenten growled, not amused by Sai’s probably unintentional dig.

“Oh,” the man said. “I guess I was staring at it for a while. But then I’m not a seal master – only adept – so it makes sense it would take longer for me than for you.”

Naruto’s teeth made an audible grinding sound, but he felt it better to intervene before Tenten threw herself at the man. “Just tell us what it is, Sai?”

“It’s a fusion seal. See?” He twisted the tantō again, positioning it as if he was going to stab them.

“A fusion seal?” asked Tenten, maneuvering herself around to stand next to Sai. “That doesn’t look like any fusion seal I’ve seen.”

“Me neither,” Naruto added, peering over Sai’s shoulder. “You sure that’s a fuser?”

Sai nodded. “Mm. But it’s been cut in half.”

Tenten groaned. “Then it’s useless.”

“If it was useless, they wouldn’t have it,” the former ANBU replied.

“Point,” Naruto admitted, an idea taking shape in his mind. “If the seals are there, they have to serve a purpose. We just need to find out what that purpose is.”

“What do you think we’ve been trying to do here?”

But Naruto wasn’t paying attention. His mind was elsewhere, focused on the meeting he’d had with Shikamaru. “Tenten, Sai, how do you feel about taking a trip with me to T&I?”

* * *

“I’m sorry, I must have heard wrong. You want me to do what?”

Ino’s expression would have made Uchiha Madara cower in fear. Her ferocity radiated throughout the spacious office and Naruto would have gladly opened the door for easy escape if doing so wouldn’t disable the security seals. Not for the first time, Naruto wondered how Sai did it. Ino was as terrifying as she was beautiful and here Sai stood, right in front of her, grinning as if Ino’s razor-sharp glare was a common occurrence. If he didn’t know better, the Hokage would swear his old teammate got some sort of weird, masochistic pleasure out of finding the best ways to piss her off.

“Hokage-sama wants you to choose one of the four prisoners and give them back their chakra.”

Ino crossed her arms. “Uh-huh,” she laughed out, thinking them all mad. “You want _me_ to let someone I’ve been _torturing_ for two days have a go at escape?”

“And give them a sword.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, of course! How silly of me. Of course they get a sword,” she mocked. Her eyes were like flint as she poked her finger at them. “Have you lost your mind? Is this some sort of joke? You don’t just give someone you’ve been raking for information a means to fight back. It’s Interrogation 101: sap them of their strength and watch them sing.”

“We don’t want you to give them all their chakra, just a trickle. Enough for them to think they have a fighting chance,” Tenten tried to explain, but it seemed to only enrage Ino further.

“They’re not supposed to have a fighting chance,” she scathed. “Sure, we might offer them some pretty little promises in the beginning – tell them we’ll go easy on them if they give us what we want, their death will be quick, they’ll go home, yada, yada – but we don’t actually give them a means to go through with it.”

“Ino, this is the only sure-fire way to figure this out,” Naruto said.

“This?” Ino asked, folding her arms. “What is this? Because from my angle, _this_ ,” she gestured around them, “is insanity.”

Naruto sighed, pushing down on his annoyance. “I could order you.”

“You could,” Ino agreed, “but you’re not. Which means you want my honest opinion. And my honest opinion is that this is a stupid plan.”

“You have free reign to do as you like, we just need them to be pushed far enough to use the tantō.”

“Think of it as another form of torture,” Sai added. “You’re giving them a sliver of hope before cruelly wrenching it away.”

“Not the same,” Ino rebutted. “You’re putting way too much stock in my ability to control the situation. Have you thought about what would happen if they actually did manage to escape?”

“They all have tracking seals on them, don’t they?” Naruto asked. He could try following their chakra too of course, but was hesitant to rely on his sensing in case these people had done something else to block him.

“Well yes, but even those have a limit. You do realize you’re talking about letting a potentially hostile person loose, don’t you? Are you really willing to risk that?”

“Yes.”

Ino stared. “ _Why_?”

“Because these people managed to get into the village undetected and pluck my son out from under our noses,” Naruto stated, with no small amount of bite. He brushed aside the fact that more of these people could be in the village already with access to who knew how many secrets, and if figuring out the seals under these peoples’ control brought him any closer to figuring out how many, he would take it.

But Ino didn’t look surprised or even suitably rebuked. Instead, she stood akimbo, her pretty face set in a scowl. “Oh no, trust me, I get that I really do, but don’t we have, like, a research division for stuff like this? I didn’t send over those body diagrams for shits and giggles.”

“ _Yes_ , and if we didn’t need this _yesterday_ then that’s exactly where I’d be,” Naruto admitted, the bags hanging prominently under his eyes detracting from some of the ire in his voice. “But even Tenten doesn’t know where to start with these seals and she’s the best we have.”

Tenten nodded. “And we could probably figure it out in a few months if this was all we had to work on, but it’s not, and we don’t know if we can afford those months.”

Ino’s scowl deepened. “And let me guess, you think letting them think they can escape will force them to act.”

“Exactly.”

Ino held her frown for a few seconds before sagging back against her desk. “You do realize I’ve cracked only a handful of these people, right? And none of them were very useful.”

“We know,” Naruto admitted.

“Do you?” She eyed him humorlessly. “So you know that we know almost nothing about what they can do. The fact that they’re covered in more seals than a yakuza boss has tattoos is only the tip of the iceberg. The results of their medical exams came back inconclusive for almost everything, and when I say inconclusive, I mean it – bloodlines, strengths, weaknesses, everything else. We know we have four whatever-relations, but not if it means anything. We know their affinities, but not their proficiency. We know the size of their chakra pools, but not their techniques. For all that we do know, we learn even less. You know this?”

“Yes.”

“And you still want to let one loose?”

“Yes.”

She stared at Naruto, wrenching her hand away from husband’s as he leaned in to take it. Another beat passed with neither backing down. Eventually, Ino sighed in defeat. “Fine, alright.”

“You’ll do it?” Sai asked.

“Yes, fine, I’ll do it. But don’t blame me if this blows up in our faces.”

“Never,” said Naruto, relieved.

Ino nodded. She pursed her lips in thought and said, “There’s one person I could use. One of the four. She’s a bit out of it, half-crazed, but she’s vicious enough that I think I could get her to believe escape is possible. So long as you let me do things my way, I can get her to talk.”

Sai smiled. “Did you know your eyes sparkle when you talk about torturing people?”

Ino shrugged, smirking as if the compliment wasn’t two-ways towards creepy, and Naruto and Tenten squirmed uncomfortably. Her smiled remained in place as she motioned to shoo them out. “Alright, if you want this done quickly, get out. I don’t need you all breathing down my neck. Not you, dear. You can stay,” she added towards Sai.

Naruto and Tenten hurried to move, the Hokage reaching out to pat Sai on the shoulder. He motioned gratefully to his fellow blonde. “Thank you, Ino. I guess it goes without saying that everything here is classified?”

“We’d be pretty bad shinobi if we couldn’t figure that one out. I suppose you’ll want to approve the people I bring in for this little escapade?”

Naruto grinned and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Ino let out a short burst of air. “Fine. I’ll have it for you later, but I hope you know I’m only doing all this because you asked.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Just go, you knucklehead. I’ve got this.”

Naruto grinned. “Then I leave it in your capable hands, Yamanaka-taicho.”

Ino laughed somewhere between mocking and sincere. “Don’t worry, Hokage-sama. I’ll make her sing.” And with that Cheshire look Naruto didn’t doubt her for a second. He nodded his head and swept towards the door. The last thing he heard before it shut behind him was Ino’s subdued voice asking Sai, “How’s Inojin?”

Naruto didn’t wait to hear any more. He picked up his pace and strode back down the hall. He was late to a meeting with his shinobi.

* * *

“Hinata-sama.”

The collective, monotone choir of her name had always put Hinata on edge. Over the years, she’d learned to ignore the feeling, but seeing the large group of esteemed Hyūga elders kowtowing before her still sent her stomach rolling. The high, white walls of the Hyūga Council Chamber did little to settle her nerves, and it was only decades of practice that kept her mask of serenity in check.

“Esteemed elders,” she began, bowing her own head to acknowledge them. “I thank you for taking the time to meet with me on such short notice.”

“We are at your disposal, Hinata-sama,” her grandaunt, Hyūga Hiyori, said. “Though we are wary about where this is leading.”

“Yes,” another elder stated. “Boruto-sama’s nafuda has faded considerably and Hyūga Shinjin’s name has disappeared. Such things do not coincide with Hokage-sama’s statement. Are we correct in assuming there is more to recent events than have been released?”

The nafuda. How could she forget? Of course that would give them away. There’d been a whole ceremony when Boruto was born linking his life force to that damn totem. It acted as a reflection of his health; if he died his name would disappear entirely. Anyone who saw it now would know immediately that Boruto had not escaped yesterday’s debacle unscathed.

And Shinjin. Hinata remembered him, always following Neji about like a lost puppy. She hadn’t known he’d been on Team Nu. Kiba’s bragging had hinted at a Hyūga. Her heart ached with the knowledge – one more family member lost to protect her own; she would have to pay her respects to his parents.

“You are correct, elder. In order to avoid village-wide panic, my husband and his advisors felt it best to keep Boruto’s condition a secret. However, as our family, I have been given permission to expound upon recent events and ask only for your silence until the matter has been resolved. This information is not to leave the Hyūga Clan nor reach the ears of those under chuunin rank.” Preferably not even that, but the nafuda were accessible to the entire clan and so long as it didn’t spread to the outside, Hinata was forced to trust in her family’s discretion.

There was a round of uncertain nods around the room as they agreed to the condition, not that it was really up for question. The rumor mill had been going wild throughout the clan and this was their only chance for real answers. They would be stupid to turn it down, and while the Hyūga elders could be accused of many things, stupid was not one of them.

“You have our silence, Hinata-sama,” Hyūga Higashi said with narrowing eyes. “Though whether we act on the situation depends on what you say.”

Hinata’s lips thinned as she noted the agreement on the faces around her. “These orders come directly from the Hokage, grandfather,” _and are to be obeyed without question_ , were the words left hanging unspoken in the air.

Higashi’s face contorted in displeasure. “Then we hope you explain the situation to Hokage-sama, should the clan feel action is required.”

 _Oh, I don’t doubt you will_ , Hinata surmised, already feeling the headache she’d predicted this conversation would indubitably produce. _Your pride won’t permit otherwise. Not that I’m fairing much better.  
_

She shook the thought away.

“I will do what I can, grandfather, but the final word is the Hokage’s,” and her’s, but that, too, went unsaid.   

Higashi didn’t look any happier – in fact, he seemed to sour further – but he acquiesced if only so they didn’t spend the next few hours going in circles. “Understood. You may proceed.”

 _Oh, how kind of you to let me,_ she thought. _Why do I continuously expect better?_ But she didn’t allow such spiteful comments to pass and only let herself appear submissive and wholly grateful for their time. “Thank you,” she said demurely, as if she meant it. Her knuckles were white against the deep blue of her pants and she took a deep inhalation to steel herself. “Yesterday morning, around seven-hundred hours, my husband and I were alerted to an urgent matter by Aburame Shino. Our son had not made it to class and was nowhere to be found. Scout teams were sent out and Boruto was found around eight-hundred hours.”

“The explosion,” Hiyori remarked.

Curtly, Hinata nodded. “Yes. As we can surmise, Boruto was targeted by an unknown group for abduction. My husband and his team managed to apprehend the perpetrators, but not before they set off explosive tags in an effort to escape.”

“And these perpetrators, do we know who they are?”

“No,” Hinata admitted shortly, glancing down at her lap. Technically, it was true, though it left a bad taste in her mouth, but she frankly didn’t trust many in the room to keep their mouths shut should the name ‘Orochimaru’ be spoken. No doubt the clan would go into an uproar. Had she looked up, she would have noticed the way her grandfather’s mouth twisted.

A ripple of displeasure spread throughout the chambers.

“That is unfortunate,” Yoshiyuki, one of the eldest councilors, remarked lowly.

His fellows agreed. There was a distinct tang of killing intent in the air. Hiyori leaned forward. “Such actions cannot be disregarded. Boruto-sama was tested positive for the Byakugan. It is possible whoever is behind this is after our bloodline. We will have to be vigilant.”

“Indeed,” another elder said. “Until this situation is resolved, we cannot afford to have any member of the clan leave the village.”

“What of Hyūga Shinjin?” Yoshiyuki asked into the silence.

“Hyūga Shinjin was a member of the branch house,” Higashi remarked offhandedly, much to Hinata’s consternation. They’d made progress, so much progress, over the years, but some traditions were harder to dispose of than others – the separation of houses being one of them. All of Naruto’s work on sealing, from the time he first started practicing to now, had been to free the Branch House, but even so many years into the project and they still didn’t have a viable enough seal to convince the elders that unification was possible.

Hinata bit her lip and reminded herself it was only a matter of time until such blatant disregard towards the branch family ended.

 _Just a few more months,_ she thought, _just a few more months and the next seal will be ready for testing._

“Yes, his seal should be enough of a deterrent. Perhaps we should seal Boruto-sama as a precaution.”

_What?_

“Absolutely not!” Hinata exclaimed, heart pounding and affronted at the very suggestion. _Over my dead body._ Her son would not come near a seal until her husband’s was complete. She was pleased to note many of the others were similarly affronted. “I may no longer be the heiress, but my children are still members of the head family. That they are descended from the matrilineal line automatically exempts them from branch house consideration. Besides which, they are the Hokage’s children. To those who do not understand the Hyūga, your proposal could well be considered a threat.”

She eyed the speaker intently – daring him to contradict her – as the air in the chamber thickened uncomfortably. The other elders all kept their attention purposefully elsewhere as her mother’s brother shifted with sudden discomfort in his seat.

He bowed stiffly. “My apologies, Hinata-sama. It was merely a suggestion.”

“You would do well to hold your tongue on such suggestions then, uncle. I would hate for certain parties to interpret it falsely.” Her warning hung in the air like a noose and Hinata marveled at the way she managed to say all of that without trembling. Perhaps it was motherly instinct or her childhood teachings finally taking root, but she found herself experiencing a rather perverse sense of pleasure as she watched the man kowtow before her, begging forgiveness.

“I’m sure Yamura-dono meant no such thing, Hinata-sama,” Higashi said into the silence. His tone was light, though edged with just enough bite to indicate his displeasure. “To seal a member of the main branch, particularly a first-born son, would never be considered in earnest. Such irrationality can only be attributed to the stress of the situation.”

“Indeed,” Yamura said hastily, looking for all the world like he had swallowed a lemon.

Hinata nodded, allowing her expression to slacken into something resembling understanding. No one was fooled. “Of course, grandfather. I am only pointing out what those outside the Hyūga would think.”

“And you do well to do so. However, the point stands. Hyūga Shinjin’s death so close to Boruto-sama’s abduction does indicate a threat towards our family. Young Shinjin’s seal should be enough to prevent theft, however the same cannot be said for the rest of the clan.”

The rest of the clan meaning the Main Branch – the _important_ branch.

There was a wave of nods throughout the room, and Hinata bit her tongue to prevent from speaking. Saying Shinjin had been following up on a lead would only incite the group to ask questions.

“Until further notice, no Hyūga is to be sent on missions outside the village,” Higashi decreed to the approval of the others.

“Hinata-sama,” Hiyori directed, “can we trust you to inform the Hokage of our decision.”

“Of course, elder.” Hinata swallowed harshly. “Anything to prevent the theft of our bloodline,” no matter how nonsensical it sounded to her. If it was the Byakugan these people were after, no doubt they would have gone after someone more assured in its manifestation than Boruto.

Nevertheless, Hiyori looked satisfied. “Good. Is there more we should be informed of?”

Breathing down the heat in her throat, Hinata shook her head. “No, elder."

“You’re sure?”

Hinata narrowed her eyes. The council stared back unflinchingly. “Yes, elder. I’m sure.”

A frown cracked against the woman’s powdered cheeks. “…Very well. Then we must inform the rest of the clan and prepare for–”

“How is Boruto-chan?” The eldest woman on the council butted in, her soft, grandmotherly voice echoing throughout the chamber and shutting Hiyori down with an audible _click_. The younger woman noticeably tensed, but knew better than to speak over a kunoichi like Hyūga Kaburi.

Hinata’s eyes widened – Kaburi rarely spoke – before allowing her lips to curl into a small, sardonic smile. _I should have known. They just never know when to give up,_ she thought in resignation. Visibly, she soothed her features into something resembling placid. “He is currently recovering in the hospital under the care of Tsunade-sama and Uchiha Sakura.”

“His nafuda is very light,” Kaburi prodded mildly. Her face was gentle with consideration, though Hinata was not so obtuse as to overlook the steel in her eyes or the question in her tone.

Hinata bit the inside of her lip. “Boruto was caught in the blast. He is…quite hurt.”

Kaburi frowned. Her eyes flickered. “Such harm, to necessitate the caliber of skill Tsunade-sama and Uchiha-san wield.” She stared, the weight of her eyes heavy on Hinata’s shoulders. “You understand we cannot allow such transgressions to go unpunished.”

“Elder–"

“These shinobi have attacked not just a child of the main branch, but a child of the head family. Such offences necessitate retaliation.” Whispers broke out amongst the assembled Hyūga, everyone in consensus. Hinata’s stomach flipped.

She swallowed thickly. “You speak of a blood debt.”

Kaburi nodded gravely. “By your own admission, Boruto-sama’s injuries were life-threatening. We are well within our rights to demand the blood of those who have been apprehended.”

“We need them for information,” Hinata reminded, somewhat weakly. “My husband will not permit the clan to kill them.”

“Then you must persuade him. Our enemy can hardly keep their information forever. What is your plan once they are no longer necessary?” Yoshiyuki inquired from his place behind Kaburi. “As Boruto-sama’s mother, right to first blood is yours but, should you refuse, we are willing to take up your cause.”

Either way the perpetrators would die by clan hands.

There was pregnant pause filled with the elders’ heavy stares, all of them waiting for her to give her answer. Internally, Hinata debated between giving into her anger or sticking with her morals, but in the end there was only one response she could reasonably give. “Right now, we need to focus on gathering information. I cannot answer for the events that follow.”

The council didn’t look happy, but Kaburi bowed her head anyway. “Very well. It is your decision. We will pray for your son, Hinata-sama.”  

 _Oh, I know you are not letting this go that easily_.

“Thank you, elder,” Hinata replied at barely a whisper. She bit her lip, willing herself not to respond to the ill-concealed displeasure suffocating the room.

Kaburi didn’t appear insulted, though Yamura sniffed somewhat derisively off to the side. Higashi glared at him.

“Kaburi-dono speaks rightly. We will pray for young Boruto’s swift recovery. Until then, we must remain cautious.” His attention shifted to Hinata. “You will inform us of any new developments, Hinata-sama?”

“As I am allowed, grandfather.”

“Excellent. Then I ask to adjourn this meeting. There is much to do and the day is still young.”

“Agreed.” Hinata bowed, her head to the floor. “Honored elders. I thank you for your time."

As one, they bowed back. “Hinata-sama.”

They left the room in silence.

* * *

Sasuke would never admit it out loud, but he was impressed. Even knowing the Snake Sannin as well as he did hadn’t prepared him for the absolute labyrinth before him. It was certainly a lab, but it was also an underground village that put Otogakure to shame. The old Root headquarters in Konoha had nothing on this place and if Sasuke hadn’t learned the kage bunshin he would have had to call in a village of reinforcements.

Rows upon rows of empty gestation pods stood broken and shattered along the surrounding walls, and the only light to be found was what Sasuke had managed to rig from an old, dying generator. More than half of the overhanging lights were burnt out and Sasuke had long resorted to his dōjutsu to prevent himself from falling to a much ignoble death. The scent of decaying flesh and spilled chemicals eroded at his nose the further he delved, and he’d stopped caring about the sorry state of his shoes hours ago.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been down here. By his estimates it had to have been at least half the day, not even counting how long it had taken just to get in, and in all that time he had yet to come across anything resembling human. There were plenty of animals, and the smell was certainly telling, but even with kage bunshin he’d yet to find an end to the seemingly endless cavern. It was beginning to grate on his nerves.

“ _Kuchiyose no Jutsu_!” He slammed his palm onto the table, it being mildly less filthy than the floor, and a plume of smoke obscured his vision for a brief second.

“Sssasssuke-sssama, twiccce in one day,” came the coy high-pitched tone of a python. “I’m flattered.”

“Naga,” Sasuke acknowledged. “I’m going in circles. I need you to find any humans down here.”

“Alive?” She questioned. “Or dead?”

Sasuke’s eyes widened fractionally – not enough to be noticeable by normal standards, but certainly telling on him. “Are you saying there are people still living down here?”

He hadn’t sensed anyone and tensed in preparation for an attack. Suddenly, every shadow appeared alive. How could someone live down here and evade his senses?

Naga flicked her tongue and slowly slid her body to the floor. “Yesss, Sssasssuke-sssama, but barely. There’sss ssso much rot.” She quivered in pleasure, opening her mouth to bare her fangs hungrily.

The Uchiha ignored her, far too used to the snake’s various idiosyncrasies, and swiveled his head around looking for any hidden assailant. He fingered a kunai. “Take me to them.”

“Of courssse, Sssasssuke-sssama,” she said, slithering towards the furthermost door. “I sssmell them. They are near.”

With narrowed eyes, Sasuke followed her further into the dank underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that for chapter 4. I hope you all enjoyed and that it's left you with questions. Please let me know what you thought or what I can improve on, and I look forward to hearing from all of you next time. Until then, thank you and bye!

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact: The ANBU commander in the beginning of this story is actually Soku, the female ANBU sent with Shikamaru on a mission during the Blank Period.
> 
> So, Naruto's not thinking very rationally. He's lying, he's trying to do it all alone - pretty much everything he hates. He also has to weigh his own beliefs and morals against what he thinks is best for the village. Can he be Uzumaki Naruto and also The Hokage? It's a very thin line. 
> 
> I really wanted to take a look at what it means for the Konoha Twelve to be adult shinobi in charge of the village, particularly Naruto as the Hokage dealing with a crisis that is both political and personal in nature. He has to think about a lot of outside factors while fighting against his own emotional desires and moral compass. He no longer has the liberty of running around half-assed now that he's the leader of a military village, and there are a lot of things that are going to test his resolve. Case in point: his fear, which already has him falling back on lying. 
> 
> I also really wanted to look at what the world would look like now that they're all striving for international peace. It's going to be hard. So incredibly hard, especially because they have to include the minor villages and a whole new onslaught of technology. So what does the Shinobi Union do? How does it work between the villages, and how do they deal with threats? 
> 
> Currently, I have six chapters already written with the seventh half-way done. I hope to update once a week or so until I'm done with those before moving onto once a month. I am a slow writer but I'm trying to get better so this is my challenge to myself.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and please leave a review! I really want to improve as a writer and your feedback is invaluable. Thank you!


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